A Sinister Hart
by PrettyinPinkNikki21
Summary: What happens when a vacation turns deadly for Jonathan and Jennifer?


Jonathan and Jennifer walked hand in hand along the private beach, chatting about their day. The scuba diving had been a great adventure hours earlier as they explored the local coral reefs and sea life. Both were dressed in coordinated white shorts and blue shirts, and both kicked up the surf with their bare feet. Occasionally, Jonathan picked up a rock along the beach and skipped it into the waves while Jennifer admired the local flowers that dotted the seascape. Hand in hand, they blissfully made their way back to the nearby cabana.

They were staying at a rented, secluded beach house on Hawksbill Bay in Cayman Brac, known locally as "The Brac". It was the smallest and most eastern of the Cayman Islands in the Caribbean, known for its natural environment. There were exquisite diving tours in deep, clear waters, as well as hiking trails and rock climbing of the cliff that ran through the middle of the island and ended in The Bluff. Most importantly, it was a conservationist's dream. There were protected environments, spawning grounds, a parrot park to conserve a multitude of the species and beautiful marine parks. One in particular was called Deep Well, in of all places, Jennifer Bay. The Harts were just minutes from the Brac Parrot Reserve, Deep Well, and The Bluff itself. It was truly their paradise.

The Harts relished their time away together. The cabana had a large hammock stretched across its natural driftwood frame and a few driftwood benches completed the cozy sitting area. A picnic blanket was strewn across the sand in front of it with a picnic basket containing a dinner of fresh fruits and vegetables with various cheeses. A bottle of wine was chilling in a large ice bucket. Jonathan lit the small tiki torches behind them and lay across the hammock. Jennifer laughed playfully at him, then snuggled up next to him as the sun slowly set behind them. They rocked together, in the quiet conversation of a couple in love, watching the water as birds skimmed its surface in search of food.

With twilight came the show they waited for in anticipation. The moon began to appear from the horizon, and they gathered together on the picnic blanket, snacking and opening the wine. The clinking sound of glasses was heard above the gentle sounds of breaking waves on the shore.

"To you, darling," Jonathan said, raising his glass to hers.

"To you," Jennifer replied, "I love you very much."

They sat together, Jennifer sitting in between Jonathan's legs, her head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around her, they watched as the reflection of the water in the atmosphere made the moon swell in size. It felt so close that Jennifer thought she could touch it. It continued to fill the sky, glowing orange, burning yellow, and finally shining bright white above the water with moonbeams dancing on the now dark, rippling waves.

"Magnificent," Jennifer breathed before sipping the fruity dessert wine.

"You certainly are," whispered Jonathan in her ear as he lovingly kissed her neck. She reached up, and finding the nape of his neck that she loved so much, she entwined her fingers in his rich, brown hair and pulled his mouth to hers. They kissed, long and passionate, before returning their gazes upward. The stars twinkled in gratitude for the space they could now share with the moon, high in the sky.

Chatting quietly, they marveled again at the beauty of the night and vowed to repeat the evening before their trip ended. They gathered their things, extinguished the tiki torches and went into the house through the backyard deck. Inside, they readied for bed and Jennifer pulled the sheer curtains back from the small, private deck of the master bedroom suite to allow the moon's travels in the sky to continue to dazzle them. With the lights low, they snuggled together in bed. Jonathan was wearing the bottoms of his pajama set while Jennifer wore the top.

"How many lovers do you think have seen this incredible view?" Jennifer asked.

"Just me, darling," Jonathan winked. He leaned close. "You are beautiful, you know that?"

"I know, I know," Jennifer laughed as she playfully tapped him on the nose.

Jonathan reached past her and turned off the bedside table's lamp. The light faded to nothing but the silvery glow from the moon shining brightly as he took her in his arms.

The next morning, Jennifer slept soundly, nestled in Jonathan's embrace. He cradled her with his entire body from behind, his arm wrapped around her waist and his hand warmly tucked into hers. His cheek felt her soft, tousled curls, and his knees were warm as they snuggled into the backs of hers. Even their feet were entwined, completing where their bodies ended. As he awoke slowly, with the breeze from the trade winds flowing over their bed, and smelling the combination of Jennifer's scent mixed with the light perfume of the tropical flowers, Jonathan couldn't think of a better way to wake up. He nuzzled her earlobe before kissing it softly, gently moving down her neck and to her shoulder.

His passion growing, Jonathan pulled her toward him by her waist as he pressed his thickening member into her taut, soft backside. Still asleep, she sighed, moaning with her exhale in response to him. Continuing his kisses on her neck and ear, Jonathan slid his hand down her hip to her knee, raising her leg up and sliding it back to rest on his thigh. Pressing into her again, his throbbing member found her center, and surprisingly, her wetness. Waking, she reached back and squeezed his arm with her hand as she pressed back into him with her hips. Jonathan found her entrance and slid inside her easily. Jennifer moaned louder still, and began to rock in response to his motions. He slowly but steadily moved in and out of her, kissing the side of her neck and reaching to fondle her soft, silky breasts. Together, they built the tension in their bodies without the need for words.

Yearning for more, Jennifer grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm toward her and they rolled together without separating from their union. He was on top of her then, strong and firm as she spread her legs further apart and bent her knees to wrap around his thighs, tucking her feet into the insides of his knees; he loved that and groaned appreciatively. The bedroom and the trade winds fell away, and there was nothing but the sunlight and their lust for each other. Jonathan thrust himself into her, deeper, harder, and faster, guided by her moans and panted breathing. He propped up on his elbows, reached for her hand, and threaded his fingers through hers as they squeezed them together.

He pushed deeply and paused for a moment, allowing himself to climax slightly and exhaling with a moan, as Jennifer continued to tighten her body, lifting her buttocks to receive him even more. Thrusting rhythmically, he ran his free hand down her spine and pressed it into her lower back. Jennifer arched and felt her orgasm begin. Releasing his hand and gripping the bedsheets, she screamed and Jonathan felt the spasms rock her entire body as her muscles pulled him deeper inside her. When he felt Jennifer begin to relax slightly, Jonathan slid his hand under her belly, lifting her into him and pumping even harder. Jennifer's feet found his and she felt his toes press into the tops of hers as she braced him and cried out in ecstasy.

Hearing his primal groans and feeling his full body weight, she let herself climax again as he exploded inside her, pulling them together so tightly she could feel his breath between her shoulders. Jonathan moved into her again and again, slowing his pace gradually as their spasms abated, until he was still and lying on top of her. The dampness from their bodies met his lips as he kissed the groove in the middle of her back. He rested his head on her as Jennifer reached for his hand again and curled it up to her face, kissing his knuckles.

"Good morning," she said softly, with her sultry voice.

"It certainly is," he replied breathlessly, as they chuckled together in their afterglow.

"I'm glad there are no neighbors to hear me," she observed.

"I love making you scream," he said. "It means you're mine."

"It is amazing...I never tire of this particular dance," she said, "and it boggles my mind how we manage to do it so well! I mean, we're barely awake."

"Well, darling, maybe that's why we do it so well; there is no over-thinking involved," he smiled.

"Do you know what I'm thinking now?" she said.

"That you're hungry?" he said, amused. "Yes!" she replied, squeezing his hand once again.

"You always are, darling," he laughed as he rolled to his side of the bed. "You always are."

They dressed in matching robes and strolled hand in hand to the kitchen for a hearty breakfast. Jonathan poured the coffee as Jennifer prepared a Western omelette using fresh produce from the island market. They sat at the breakfast nook, listening to the waves lap against the shore and discussed their plans for the day. Jennifer wanted to look for a few souvenirs at the island shops and Jonathan wanted to hike to the top of The Bluff. A tourist's staple, he wanted to see the view and the nesting birds on the sides of the cliff. A true Cayman experience culminated in finding the sideways blowhole in the bottom of the cliff, which Jennifer wanted to photograph.

They spent the morning at the shops, chatting with the locals and admiring the artistic creativity of the inventory. Jennifer bought a few items that captured the essence of their romantic getaway perfectly. They then traveled to hike one of the many trails that lead to the peak of the bluff.

They chose a trail that was off the beaten path in order to enjoy more of the natural flora and fauna of the area. They chatted and laughed together as they enjoyed the walk until they got to The Bluff. It dropped straight down to the ocean some 140 feet and the view was breathtaking. In the far distance, past the clear waters, a tropical shower was moving in. The dark gray clouds and streaks of rain in the sky were in deep contrast as they met the bright blue sea.

"So beautiful," Jennifer sighed, staring at the clear blue waters as far as the eye could see.

"It really is," Jonathan agreed. "That's a mighty long drop to the water." "No cliff diving here," Jennifer mused.

"You mean if I fell you wouldn't come in after me?" he teased.

"Jonathan, don't even joke about something like that," she said as she snapped a few pictures of the view with their camera. She shuddered and gave him a sideways glance as she smiled back at him.

"Don't worry darling," he said, "the only way I am falling is for you, more every day."

They kissed and took one final look out over the vast Caribbean before hiking back toward their car. On the way, Jennifer noticed a cave opening hidden in the brush. She and Jonathan approached it carefully and found a sign outside that appeared to be written by the locals. The aged wooden sign was nailed to a post and said "Nani's Cave". Jennifer gave Jonathan a mischievous smile and entered it after pulling a flashlight from her camera bag.

The Harts walked through the cave, marveling at the natural colors in the structures. The stalactites hung over them like chandeliers in a great hall, and along the sides of the cave the stalagmites created bars of color with the various mineral deposits. The daylight behind them slowly faded as they travelled deeper into the vast formation and they found themselves near a man-made tunnel access.

Jennifer snapped more photos of the cave, and lowered her camera into its bag just as Jonathan, his hand around her waist, spun her around and kissed her passionately. Jennifer gasped, then moaned as he backed her up against the tunnel's wall. He stroked her cheek as he rained kisses down her neck and ran his hand under her shirt. He released the front hook of her bra with a quick snapping motion, pushing the lace aside to cup her breast. Jennifer arched her back to give him full access and dropped the camera bag by its shoulder strap to the floor. Jonathan pushed her shirt up, his mouth craving the firm, erect nipples he caressed.

As he sucked and fondled her, Jennifer reached for his shorts, unzipping them and reaching her hand inside. Jonathan grunted his pleasure and slid Jennifer's shorts down. They were wild with passion, grasping for each other in a fit of desperation in the midst of the hot, darkened cave. Jennifer unbuttoned Jonathan's shorts and they fell to the floor as he explored her mouth again and lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist. He pressed himself against her, trapping his manhood between their bellies before sliding down to enter her.

"Oh, Jonathan," she said as he stroked her. "I love it when you're like this," and cried out as his fingers found her swollen center. She pulled his mouth back to hers and fisted her hands in his hair.

Jennifer felt Jonathan's hands slide under her bare bottom, spreading her apart to receive him as he lifted her from the ground. She wrapped her other leg around him and helped him lower her onto his throbbing, rigid member. She cried out again as he moved with her, deeper and harder, until they orgasmed simultaneously with Jennifer sandwiched between the wall and Jonathan.

"I love it when you keep your hiking boots on," Jonathan moaned, catching his breath as he drained inside Jennifer. She giggled and kissed his neck in response. He set her down as they parted from their union. The couple made themselves look respectable, straightening each other's clothes before retreating from the cave into the bright sunlight again. The only telltale sign of the afternoon delight as they hiked back to their waiting car was the heel marks on the back of Jonathan's shirt and the smudges from the wall at the shoulder blades of Jennifer's.

Once home to the beach house, they showered and dressed for dinner. Jonathan wore a pair of summer Chinos with a white pilot shirt. Jennifer wore a flowing white peasant skirt that came down to her shins. She paired it with her sandals and a floral blouse that she knotted at the waist. Earrings and a necklace from the local shops showcased her face, and her summer tan accented the ensemble beautifully.

"My island girl," Jonathan said, kissing her cheek as he passed by.

The Harts drove the short distance to one of the few restaurants on the small island. They enjoyed a glass of wine at the bar while waiting for their table. Once seated, they perused the menu together and chose their main courses. They enjoyed their dinner and the easy, relaxing atmosphere while ordering desserts and champagne.

Jennifer ordered a fresh fruit dish so she could have strawberries with her champagne and Jonathan had cheesecake. They toasted each other and kissed, the delicate flavors mixing as they did. As they left the restaurant, they only had eyes for each other.

"That was a wonderful dinner, darling," said Jennifer.

"It really was," replied Jonathan, opening the car door for her. He went around and got in, started the car and began to take them home.

As they made their way back to the house, Jennifer began to giggle.

"I think I drank too much," she said. "It was such a lovely time!"

Jonathan looked over at her, grinning. He loved it when she was tipsy.

"I rather enjoyed dessert...the first part, that is."

"And I know just what to have for seconds," giggled Jennifer, her hand finding his thigh.

They pulled into the drive and as Jonathan got out and went to open Jennifer's door, he noticed she had a chocolate after-dinner mint from their table at the restaurant in her hand. She ate it seductively as she began to get out of the car. He moaned softly.

"There's only one way I like mint," he smiled as she giggled again. She wasfeeling playful, he smiled to himself, reaching for her hand and leading her to the front door.

As they entered the foyer, Jonathan suddenly began to feel very drowsy. He was sweating, lightheaded and looked over at Jennifer. She was holding on to the counter as she dropped her purse there.

"Darling, do you feel alright?" he asked.

"I'm dizzy," she replied. "I need to lie down a minute."

They made their way to the bedroom together and Jonathan slowly sat on his side of the bed. Suddenly, he crumpled onto the bed without another word. Jennifer was making her way to her side when she saw him fall. She tried to clear her head as worry for him enveloped her.

"Jonathan?" she asked, and started toward him when a hand clamped down on her wrist and pulled her through the open door to the deck.

The next morning, Jonathan awoke slowly, groaning. His head was throbbing, his mouth was dry and his stomach was queasy. He became aware that he was still in his clothes from last night. Last night. What had they done? He rolled over and reached for his wife. Instead, he found himself alone. Slowly, he sat up and looked around. His head was so muddled. The room was empty and he heard nothing but the trade winds blowing and birds chirping. He rose and checked the bathroom.

He drank a glass of water as he looked around for Jennifer; she wasn't there. He moved from room to room, hoping to see her sleeping somewhere else. Nothing. He became more alert as his concern grew. He checked the front door and peered out the window at the car. Safe and secure. Maybe she was at the beach.

Jonathan went outside on the deck and looked over the view. As his eyes met the cabana, he noticed a shock of red hair on the horizon. He sighed gratefully and walked out to meet her.

She was sitting on one of the driftwood benches, barefoot. Still dressed in last night's outfit, her skirt's edges fluttered in the soft breeze. She was staring out at the water.

"Darling?"

She seemed to not hear him.

"Jennifer? Are you alright?" He moved into her view to meet her gaze. Slowly, she focused on him and her face broke into a small smile.

"I wanted to see the sunrise," she said in a small voice as Jonathan sat down beside her.

"How long have you been out here?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Jennifer, I'm sorry, I must have had too much to drink last night. I must have passed out."

"Me, too," she replied. She seemed far away. "But darling, then how did you get out here?" "I don't know," she said matter-of-factly.

He sat with her for a moment as they both searched their minds for answers.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I...I feel strange."

"Do you want to come inside?" he pressed.

"I will shortly, darling," she replied as she continued to look out at the shore.

"Alright, darling, I am going to put on some coffee and take a quick shower. Meet me inside?" "Of course," she said.

Jonathan rose and looked carefully at her again. She seemed so out of it. He quickly started the coffee and went to shower. He expected to hear her come in and share the water with him, but he was alone. Still, the water felt good on his body and seemed to nourish him from the outside in. His headache continued to lessen as he dressed and went to the kitchen to meet Jennifer. He was startled to find she wasn't there.

Jonathan looked out toward the cabana again; she hadn't moved. What was going on? He walked out to her and called her name.

"Jennifer?" Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were dull and...lost.

"You said you were coming in. What's going on?" he asked gently.

"I wanted to see the sunrise," she said quietly. She was starting to scare him.

"Jennifer? The sun is up. Let's go inside now. Give me your hand."

She took his hand and he gently guided her to stand. As she did, her other hand grabbed his arm and she began to sway.

"I'm dizzy," she said.

"Hold on to me. I've got you," he said. "Deep breaths," as he wrapped his arms around her. She steadied and Jonathan took her into the house to the kitchen. She sat on the barstool at the counter.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Water."

She drank a glass, and tried to clear her head.

"Now coffee," she smiled.

Jonathan put a cup of black coffee in front of her. Jennifer took two sips, then shook her head. Her stomach was queasy and she had had enough. Jonathan watched her carefully.

"Breakfast?" he asked, then said, "Me, too," when she shook her head.

"Why don't you take a shower and see if that helps?" he said.

"I think you're right," she said. She started to rise, swayed again, and Jonathan moved quickly to take her arm. She stood for a moment with a deep breath and looked at him, smiling.

"I'm alright, darling," she said as she made her way to the bathroom. Jonathan followed her at a distance and watched as she made it to the shower. Then he sat down on the bed to wait for her, turning the course of events over in his mind and searching for an explanation.

Jennifer turned on the shower and carefully stepped inside. She let the water wash over her head and neck, trying to clear her befuddled brain. She felt numb and confused. As she began to wash her hair and soap her body, she felt her stomach lurch. She adjusted the water to a cooler temperature and felt better as her stomach eased. She absentmindedly finished her routine and turned off the water, reaching for her towel.

She left the shower and began to dry herself with the soft, fluffy towel. Propping her foot on the dressing room chair and pulling the towel up her leg, Jennifer froze. For there, in bloody red welts, scratched into her inner thigh, was the word 'MINE'. She screamed, "Jonathan!"

As he frantically rounded the corner into the bathroom, their eyes locked in mutual horror. He looked at the assault on his wife's porcelain skin and his mind began to race. What in hell was happening? Jennifer covered herself with the towel and dropped to sit on the edge of the chair, her mind in an instant panic.

"Jonathan, who could have...? Why?" And most horrifyingly, "How?" Jennifer felt herself shrink away from reality as the shock set in.

Jonathan rushed to her, kneeling at her feet. Gingerly, he parted the towel and tried to look more closely. But Jennifer flinched away from him and clamped her knees together. Her reaction to him sent a piercing arrow of pain straight through Jonathan's heart.

"Baby, it's alright. Let me see," Jonathan almost whispered to her. She didn't respond. Gently, he parted her knees and looked carefully. "Are you in physical pain? Can I touch you?"

Her eyes the size of saucers and clinging to the towel with both hands, Jennifer nodded and said in a far away voice, "It stings."

Carefully, he inspected that simple, powerful word etched in such a delicate place. Lightly, he kissed her thigh next to the "M" and then met her eyes.

"It doesn't look very deep. I'll be right back." Uncertainty began to envelop him, but he forced it from his mind so he could think clearly.

He rushed to their travel bag and retrieved her camera, adjusting it as he went back to her. Jennifer stared at him as he approached and fought the urge to turn away from him again. Her mind still racing through the numbness of her shock, she arranged the towel to cover her torso and protect her modesty, watching him as he angled the camera and pressed the shutter. Then she looked away, wincing at the thought that a permanent record of this moment in time was being created. Jonathan began with a full long shot of her leg, clicking and moving closer until only the word was in the frame. Kneeling at her feet again, he turned the camera off and put it down beside him. Slowly, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.

"I'm sorry, darling, but we have to document this as evidence until...", and abruptly Jonathan was cut off as Jennifer jumped up, ran to the toilet and began to retch violently.

He quickly grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water from the sink. Wringing it out, he swore under his breath and rushed to her side. Placing the washcloth on the back of her neck, he sat cross-legged beside her and rubbed her back to try and offer some comfort. Finally, she sat back on her heels and draped her arm over the seat of the toilet bowl. With her forehead resting on that arm, she struggled to catch her breath and cry at the same time. Jonathan tenderly pulled her to him, sitting her on the side of his lap. He held her close with one hand and flipped the washcloth to its cool side before putting it back in place on the base of her neck. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Jennifer rested her head on his broad chest and sobbed. They stayed that way for a matter of minutes, but what felt like hours.

Jonathan was confused and concerned in so many ways. But he had to push these rash thoughts away. He knew she needed care from him at this vital moment, and he knew there was more business at hand. As she quieted down, still in his arms and on his lap, he spoke softly in her ear.

"Are you alright?" She sniffled and nodded weakly without raising her head from his chest.

"I don't want to upset you further, Jennifer, but I have to see if there might be more." He felt her tense up as he spoke and heard her catch her breath. This possibility hadn't occurred to her yet.

"Can you let me do this now?" She nodded again, slowly. He could tell her breathing was shallow with fear.

"Alright, we will do this quickly. Stand with your back to me, here in front of me. Take your time," he encouraged. She sighed and slowly uncurled from his embrace, but did as he instructed, not meeting his gaze.

"Now, just open your towel and I will take it," he said. And Jennifer did just that.

Jonathan inspected her entire back and legs, then raised the towel to provide her a modesty shield from him. He knew every inch of his wife's beautiful frame, but now was the time to show respect and care, and abolish any sexual innuendo regarding the task at hand.

"Now, turn for me?" Defeated, Jennifer complied.

He lowered the towel to his lap and looked up and down carefully at Jennifer again. He had her extend her arms and turn her palms up, then raise and lower her arms. Satisfied, he raised the towel up and handed it to her. She searched his face for insight to his findings.

"I don't see anything else. Do you want to get dressed?" Jennifer nodded, wrapped herself again, and quietly walked away from him. He wanted desperately to go with her, but knew she needed some space and privacy.

Jonathan got up from the floor and walked away from the bathroom and out of the dressing room. His head still hurt, but the cloudy fog in his mind from the early morning was lifted by the adrenaline rush he experienced. What did he do now? They were in a secluded home at a private beach on the safest little island of the Caymans. He didn't even know if The Brac had a police station there; they only had three restaurants, for God's sake! How did this all happen? He quickly went to the resources on the desk and found the police station, memorizing its address, for there was only one. Then he went to the deck and sat down to mull things over.

Jennifer returned to the dressing room chair and sat very still. Her thigh stung from its contact with her towel. She didn't want to look again, yet was compelled to do so. The word was glaring back at her as she stared at it. MINE. Double lines indicated the sharp edge that was used on her skin. Jonathan was right; it wasn't very deep and shouldn't leave a scar. But it was there nonetheless, an overwhelming violation in every way. Who could do such a heinous thing? And why couldn't she remember anything? Her stomach knotted again, but she vowed to remain calm. She knew that Jonathan and she would get to the bottom of this together.

She gathered a sundress and underclothes and forced herself to dress. As she sat at the vanity and stared into the mirror, she barely recognized her own reflection. Her eyes were red and puffy, her skin was pale, and her hair was wet and still clipped up since her shower. Leave it to people to ruin paradise, she thought, as she tamed her hair and tried to be presentable. She just wanted to go home and put this out of her mind forever. But now, somehow, she had to face Jonathan.

Quietly, still downcast, Jennifer found him still seated out on the deck. He was staring out at the sea, his thoughts anywhere but at the shore. She sat in the chair next to him, watching him cautiously. He finally spoke.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Confused," she replied softly.

"Me, too," he said. "But we can do this together."

"Agreed," she said. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

"Darling, for what? I'm the one who is sorry. You have done nothing wrong."

"Neither have you, Jonathan."

"I should have been able to protect you from this," he said angrily, rising from his seat and thrusting his hands into his pockets as he began to pace.

"But we don't even know what 'this' is, yet," she managed weakly.

"We will find out," Jonathan said, turning to her. "And God help the person responsible!" He felt the unbridled rage fill his very soul as the image of the brand on his wife invaded the forefront of his mind. And while his eyes sparked the blue intensity of his feelings, he saw Jennifer jump and he struggled to remain calm.

"I have to get checked by a doctor, Jonathan," she almost whimpered, snapping him back to the present.

"Are you hurting? Anywhere physically? Did you find something while you dressed?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"No, but like you said, if there is more evidence, we need it," she said.

"Alright. We will go to the medical center after the police station. Are you ready to do this now?"

Jennifer nodded and rose to meet him, but kept averting her gaze from his. She felt so dizzy he had to steady her again before she could take steps. It was so strange. She wanted Jonathan there, needed him there, but wanted to be alone, too, wanted to sleep. She couldn't explain it, it was as if words failed her. She hoped he sensed her confusion, that their deep connection would help him understand. This was bad.

Jonathan knew that she wanted to be strong for him, and marveled at the small, beautiful creature before him. She never ceases to amaze me, he thought. So soft, and warm, and small on the outside, but a tower of strength on the inside. The complete dichotomy of a man, who displays strength and falls apart internally. This may be hard for me, he mused, but it must feel impossible for her. When he found him, or them, they will pay, he thought, as the rage in him simmered in his gut.

The Harts drove in virtual silence as they made their way to The Creek and the police station on the island. The man on duty, Constable Smythe, took their initial complaint and led them to a private room to wait. Chief Inspector Owens entered the room, took a seat across from the Harts, and placed his file for them on the table.

"Hello, I'm Chief Inspector Owens. I understand there appears to be an assault?" he began.

"Yes," they said in unison.

"And neither of you can remember what happened last night?" "No," they said together, again. Their eyes met briefly.

"And you are staying in Hawksbill Bay? At the cottage named 'Beach

Retreat'?"

Jonathan nodded.

"Well, of course I know that property. And I know you, Mr. Hart. You seem to have a penchant for trouble," he smirked.

"I guess you could say that," said Jonathan, eyeing him warily.

"I have to ask some difficult questions, and would like to get them out of the way first. Is this acceptable?" "Proceed," Jonathan replied.

"Is it possible that you and Mrs. Hart had a bit too much to drink last night? That you are on vacation in a beautiful land that is The Brac, and got a bit carried away with intimate play?"

Jonathan steeled himself. "Absolutely not!"

Jennifer said quietly, "Jonathan would never hurt me. Ever."

"I understand you feel this way. But, how do you explain that there appears to be no break in and you are in a secluded area?" "We can't," Jennifer stated flatly, while Jonathan seethed.

"Do you know anyone here on The Brac?"

"No."

"And no one has visited you, even for a short while?"

"No."

"Then what do you think might have happened?"

Jonathan said, "All I know is that after dinner last night, I remember driving us back to the house, and pulling the car in the driveway. I remember nothing else until I awoke this morning without Jennifer beside me, so I got up and found her sitting in the cabana. I had a headache, felt foggy, and thought perhaps we had too much to drink with this climate." He looked at Jennifer, who was nodding her agreement.

"And I don't remember past riding toward the house in the car until he came to me this morning. But, Inspector, I know these two things to be true. I didn't put...that...there myself, and I know Jonathan didn't either.

So, now what?" she said emphatically.

"I think the prudent choice is to consult with medical professionals and determine if you may have been drugged. Here is the information, and I would ask that you go now, rather than later. Then, once I hear back from them, I will speak with you again," the Inspector concluded.

"We will. Thank you, Inspector," Jonathan replied.

He and Jennifer rose and were escorted to the front of the station to make their exit. Jonathan cast a glance at his wife, who was silent and robotic. She is completely detached, he thought as he silently worried. He escorted her to her side of the car and opened the door, and Jennifer got in without a glance or a word.

After they left the station, Jonathan drove them to The Brac Clinic. It was still early in the day, and they were ushered through the admitting procedures quickly. The nurse lead Jennifer to a room as Jonathan followed behind. Jennifer stopped at the door and turned to him.

"I think you should stay here...," as her voice trailed off. Jonathan looked stunned.

"Are you sure? I'm here for you, I don't want you to have to be alone."

She looked at him with pain in her eyes."I WANT to be alone." She didn't want him to see her poked and prodded, and said the words with more agitation than she really felt.

The nurse interjected, "Mr. Hart, we can draw your blood sample while she is with me. That way, you won't have to wait, and can leave after you meet with the doctor." She waved to a second nurse and instructed her to take Jonathan to the appropriate location for his lab work.

Jonathan leaned into Jennifer, who couldn't meet the intensity in his eyes and he said quietly, "Are you sure, darling? Is this really what you want?" "Yes," she said simply, and turned to enter the room. The nurse followed, and quietly closed the door, separating the Harts for the second time that day.

Jonathan reluctantly followed the nurse to the lab room and allowed the proper testing. He waited in the waiting room, but couldn't relax until Jennifer was brought to him, where she sat beside him in silence. Eventually, they were called to the doctor's office.

The doctor met with them together. "Mrs. Hart, because you showered most evidence was lost. The combination of the beach and the restaurant itself makes it unlikely that there is valid evidence on your clothes. Your internal exam also came up a visual negative. We will separate any DNA from your husband's if it is indeed present. But if a sexual assault took place, the assailant was very careful and most likely used a condom to prevent any evidence in that regard. The blood we drew from both of you is processing now, and we can provide you with that report as it becomes available. It really shouldn't take too much longer as it has been a rather quiet morning. If I may have permission to reach you by phone later today, you are finished here and can resume your normal activities. And, of course, copies of these medical records will be forwarded to you and the Inspector."

"And our memories?" Jonathan inquired. Jennifer quietly sat and stared at the doctor.

"If there are drugs in your systems, only time will tell. Sometimes there is recall after the drugs leave the system, sometimes there his partial recall, and other times, none at all. I wish I could tell you more."

The Harts thanked him, and left the facility. Once in their car, they decided to grab a small lunch at the local deli and marketplace. Unsure of the test results, they decided to make their own meals instead of going out. Throughout the shopping, Jennifer continued to feel dazed and non-reactive. The fatigue was overwhelming and she fought to make decisions with Jonathan.

Once back at the beach cottage, she helped Jonathan put away their food. She tried to eat lunch, but found she wasn't very hungry at all. Jonathan coaxed her to at least eat some fresh fruit and drink some water to stave off dehydration. When Jennifer said she wanted to sleep, he tucked her in lovingly on the couch, and sat nearby in a chair to read. Soon, he too was dozing as the sun began to sink in the sky.

He awoke to the sounds of the birds in the trees, signaling the cooler temperatures of the day. Gently, he bent over Jennifer, kissing her nose to awaken her. Still groggy, but less dizzy, she followed Jonathan to the kitchen as he fixed them a light dinner. She ate more this time, but still moved in a detached state, and quietly, Jonathan watched and worried.

The phone at the house rang suddenly, causing Jennifer to jump almost out of her skin. Jonathan quickly rose to answer it, and found the doctor calling with the results of their lab work. Jonathan turned on the speaker of the phone so they would hear the reports' findings together.

Dr. Reed was calm as he delivered the news. "Both lab reports indicate the presence of GHB in your systems. But Mrs. Hart, you also have ketamine present. Your levels are a bit high, and as you are a smaller

body mass, and it may take you a bit longer to metabolize them completely."

"Ketamine? Isn't that an animal tranquilizer like veterinarians use?" asked Jennifer incredulously. Jonathan looked at her, shocked.

"It is, Mrs. Hart," replied the doctor. "It is a street drug, too, and goes by many names, such as Special K, Jet and Green. Both of these drugs are colorless, odorless, and come in both liquid and powder forms. Ketamine acts faster than GHB, but its effects wear off more quickly. Therefore, assailants of a more professional nature combine the two for maximum effects. Most likely, you were given GHB first, then ketamine. Did you both consume the same food at dinner last night?"

Jonathan replied, "No, we had separate entrees and desserts..." and

Jennifer interrupted, "but we both had the same bottle of champagne."

"Did your waiter open the bottle at your table?"

"No. It came to us opened and chilling in an ice bucket," Jonathan stated flatly. Jennifer put her head in her hands.

"I think it is safe to say that someone spiked the alcohol, or possibly placed the drug in your glasses. Mrs. Hart, I'm sorry to say that you were probably dosed later with the ketamine.

"Your memory losses may return in time, but again, each case is different. I am sending this to the Chief Inspector immediately. Also, with the nature of the case, I put a rush on your exam results, and there is no DNA evidence other than that of Mr. Hart. I hope this is of some benefit to you. I do wish you both well and hope you find the answers you seek."

They thanked the doctor, and sat together, ingesting the information they had just received. Jonathan was the first to speak.

"I'm sorry, darling. I should have demanded a closed bottle, just to be safe."

Jennifer was still so distant. "You heard the doctor, it could have been in our glasses already. All it would take was swiping it around the inside of the glass with a napkin and we wouldn't have seen anything. I want to know why someone would do this."

"I will find that out, Jennifer. My only concern is for you at the moment. What can I do?"

Her reply stunned him again. "Nothing. I just want to be alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jonathan. I want to sleep." And with that, she rose carefully from her seat and went into the bedroom.

Jonathan let her go without another word. He reflected on the day's events and mentally created a checklist of the issues at hand. This was a big, big problem and he knew he should tread carefully throughout each step he would take to resolve it.

First and foremost, Jennifer. She was abrupt with him, had shut him out, and was distant. What should he do next? Continue to be understanding or confront her and talk it out? He wasn't sure. After all, the doctor said she still had the drugs in her system; maybe she did simply need to let her body process them. It had been a long, trying day, too. He hoped with all of his might that tomorrow morning would see his gentle, congenial wife again. But since this was something local that he was able to research from the island, Jonathan decided to call the doctor back.

"Yes, Dr. Reed? You said the drugs need to metabolize. Jennifer is acting so distant and detached. Is this normal? What do you recommend for her care from this point? I am quite concerned."

"Mr. Hart, I understand completely. I think it is best to let Mrs. Hart's behavior guide you. If she wants to rest, I encourage that for now. These chemicals often produce fatigue, emotional numbness, dizziness, nausea and vomiting, and of course, memory problems. The worst possible effects have been surpassed already, so she is safe from any further serious harm. And it can take up to 72 hours for these drugs to completely leave the system. Regarding your health: are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, especially after I ate today."

"Good. Eating and drinking helps flush the system. As I said, she is smaller, and was given more than you. But I must say, there will be lasting emotional effects from the ordeal itself. I would also recommend speaking to professionals when you get home as you feel is necessary to cope with that aspect as well."

Jonathan thanked him again, and they ended their call. He checked on his beautiful wife, who had changed into the pink nightgown with the scallop edged, lace cap sleeves he loved so much. She was sleeping deeply in their bed; he covered her with the sheets and kissed her softly on her forehead before returning to the great room.

The second issue at hand was the investigation. His experience told him there was little to go on. He also knew the local police force rarely had these types of crimes and were not as well versed in investigative tactics as were his employees at Hart Industries. Moreover, this was Jennifer. No one makes the first move but Jonathan where Jennifer is concerned. In order to get this moving faster, Jonathan knew they needed to get home. It was not something to discuss over a telephone.

Lastly, Jonathan allowed himself to indulge his anger while Jennifer slept. Someone, some thing, had hurt his wife. HIS wife. His love and life. His rage burned as he saw her horrified face, heard her sobs, and felt her flinch away from him. I will make them rue this day, he thought bitterly. He saw the mark on her thigh over and over in his mind. The law be damned, someone was to blame and he will pay.

He didn't often think of his teenage years, but as he seethed, his face red and fists clenched, Jonathan knew his street smarts would serve him well when the time came. He went to the kitchen and found the whiskey. Pouring himself two fingers, he drank it quickly and slammed the glass down on the countertop. His mind was resolute and his jaw set. If people accused him of being ruthless in business, they would have no doubts about his personal life when he found his answers.

Jonathan went to his briefcase and pulled out his hidden notepad. He spent a few hours formulating his plan and jotting his notes. Then he put his things away, went to the bedroom, and quietly slipped into bed so as not to wake his wife.

The house was quiet and still in the early morning hours. The only sounds were the waves breaking at the shore and the occasional whistle of the trade winds. The Harts were sleeping peacefully, when Jennifer suddenly awoke with a gasp. She had been dreaming; a gloved hand grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her away. Jonathan still slept, and Jennifer tried to push the thought from her mind. As she started to doze off, her last thought before sleep came again was that she wanted to go home.

The next morning, the Harts slept in. Jennifer awoke first, and quietly showered and got ready for the day. Her inner thigh was starting to heal, and the cream she used on it was decreasing the welted inflammation. But as she sat at the bright lights of the vanity, she discovered a faint bruise in a strip across the inside of her left wrist. As she inspected it, a bright flash went through her mind and she saw a black-gloved hand clamp down on her forearm. She realized the mark was from a thumb. She ran her hand over the skin of her wrist and sighed. Jonathan came in just as she did. He had been watching from the doorway unbeknownst to her.

Without a word, he searched her eyes and found the confusion he hoped would be gone this morning. Again, he knelt down beside her and looked at the new mark. He drew over it lightly with his finger before taking her wrist to his lips and kissing it. His eyes stayed on her face even as she looked away.

"I want to go home," she said quietly. Jonathan stood, kissed her on top of her head, and looking in the mirror at their reflection, said, "I'll get the jet ready."

Jennifer packed as Jonathan made the necessary arrangements to depart. He notified the clinic and the police station of his intentions and made arrangements for the finished reports to follow them back to Los Angeles. Then, he coaxed Jennifer to try to eat breakfast and they closed up the beach house together. Jennifer was a bit more animated, but had no appetite and was still much more subdued than usual.

They were in the air westbound for home within a few hours. Jonathan read on the plane, but noticed Jennifer didn't.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked

"My stomach is still queasy and I'm tired again. Reading makes it worse," she lamented.

"Please, eat a little," he begged. "Or at least drink. Ginger ale, maybe? The doctor said that fluids will help flush your system."

Jennifer agreed, but only managed about a third of the drink. She spent most of the trip with her head resting on the seat and her eyes closed.

Jonathan missed his companion and tried to busy himself with plans for work when he went back into the office. But, he often found himself staring at Jennifer, his thoughts wandering as well. He tried to identify his feelings. Of course he was angry, but as he watched her, Jonathan felt a tremendous amount of guilt. He was supposed to protect her, and felt helpless that he had also been drugged. He knew none of this was the fault of either of them, but that fact brought him little comfort. He vowed to be as strong and patient as he could for Jennifer by whatever means possible.

They landed in Los Angeles and drove home. Jennifer seemed to relax more once on land again, and Max and Freeway greeted them enthusiastically as they came in the door.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. H! It's good to see you home, but isn't this a bit early?" he asked.

"Well, Max, we decided we missed you and Freeway too much to stay away any longer," Jonathan said, while Jennifer squatted down to pet the little, fluffy dog. Jonathan noticed a true smile cross her face and silently thanked Freeway for his love.

Jennifer said, "Hi, Max," as she rose from the deep knee bend, and started to sway as the dizziness took over. Jonathan, with his quick reflexes, tucked his hand under her arm and righted her balance again. His eyes met Max's and he shook his head slightly. Later, he thought.

Max understood, and simply said, "I'll get the bags. You two settle in." Jonathan thanked him and he and Jennifer went into the kitchen. Freeway scurried behind, and jumped into Jennifer's lap as soon as it was available. Her smile returned.

"Darling, you have to eat something," he began.

This time, Jennifer agreed and decided on a small, simple salad. With Freeway's enthusiastic stare, she actually finished a meal.

Max was at the sink, clearing the plates when Jennifer said she was ready to retire upstairs. She thanked Max and left the kitchen as Jonathan told her he would follow shortly. She smiled at him as she left.

"What's going on, Mr. H? Is Mrs. H okay?" Max asked carefully.

"Uh, Max, I really don't know yet. There was some trouble on the island."

"Trouble, what kind of trouble?"

"We were drugged, Max, and when I came to, and found her, she was on the beach at the cabana, staring out at the water. And she has this...mark...on her, and we don't know how it got there because we can't remember what happened."

"But she looks fine, Mr. H. A little quiet maybe, but that could be, what, jet lag?"

"No, Max, I wish it was. We went to the police and then the private medical clinic on the island, and they confirmed it. We both had GHB in our systems, but she also has ketamine. They're street drugs, and ketamine is an animal tranquilizer. That's why her balance is off and she's so tired. She's been like this for two days now, but she wanted to come home, and they cleared her to travel. The doctor said it will be better within 72 hours, but he's not so sure about her memory; it may or may not come back. I'm worried, Max." "Geez, Mr. H." Max managed.

"Tomorrow, we start trying to figure this out. But I'm going to go take care of her now and help her get to bed. It's good to be home, Max; good night." Jonathan patted him on the shoulder and left to check on his wife as Max's, "Night, Mr. H," followed him.

As he entered their suite, Jonathan saw that Jennifer was already tucked into bed, sleeping soundly again. Satisfied she was comfortable, he decided to shower and get ready for bed himself. He switched off the bedside lamp and kissed her on the cheek. He took his time in the shower, relaxing after the long day's activities. At his closet, in fresh pajamas, he heard a noise and peeked around the corner to see Jennifer. He heard her ragged breathing and saw her jump in her sleep as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and realized she was dreaming. Just as he rounded the corner, Jennifer bolted up in bed, shouting, "NO!"

He was there, then, on the edge of the bed and taking her into his arms. She clung to him and began to cry.

"What is it?" Jonathan asked, holding her tightly.

"A hand, a black glove, grabbed my arm. He had to be on the deck. He was pulling me away, I couldn't pull myself back. I saw you fall onto the bed! He said he would throw you off The Bluff..." She buried her face into his neck, her tears rolling down his throat.

"I'm here, we're home, it will be alright," he soothed. "Which arm did he grab?" and was certain it was a memory as she raised her left arm.

Jonathan held her while she cried, and after she calmed down, tucked her into bed again. Then he got into bed and tucked in behind her. He held her all night, but slept fitfully as he pondered who the man was and how he would hurt him when he found him.

The next morning, Jonathan woke to find Jennifer dressed and ready for the day.

"How are you feeling, darling?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, I feel better this morning. I'm not tired or dizzy," she replied. "What time are you going into the office?"

"I can push it back if you want me to," he said. "I'm flexible."

"Oh, I don't think you need to do that. I know you have a lot to catch up on."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, of course, darling." She kissed him and moved past him to go downstairs, as he watched her incredulously.

He dressed quickly, then Jonathan went to the kitchen where she and Max were chatting about the household happenings while they were gone. She had Freeway in her lap again and a cup of coffee in front of her. Max served Jonathan coffee and prepared their breakfasts. The whole scene seemed fairly normal. So Jonathan said his goodbyes and left for the office.

He spent the morning sifting through messages and returning phone calls. Then, after lunch, he summoned Stanley Friesen, his most trusted researcher, to his office. Jonathan informed Stanley of the basic events that took place in Cayman Brac with instructions to investigate the restaurant as well as the activities of the police on the case.

After work, Jonathan arrived home and Max greeted him at the door.

"Hiya, Mr. H," he said. "Busy day today?"

"As always, Max. How are things around here?"

"Oh, fine. Mrs. H is upstairs, but she seems pretty normal to me. Has Freeway in tow a lot, he's loving it."

"Good to know, Max. Hey, listen, I want you to do a few things for me quietly."

"Sure thing. Like what?"

"I want you to keep your ear to the ground with some of our old friends from back in the day. Can you do that, Max? See if you hear anything about us or the trip?"

"Of course, Mr. H. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Max. I'm going to go check on Mrs. H and we'll be down shortly."

Jonathan went upstairs to find Jennifer engrossed in a book. They kissed hello and headed down for dinner. Freeway was at her heels, and she seemed a bit subdued, but normalcy seemed to be finding its way back to them. They shared dinner together and had drinks on the patio in the garden. It was only when Max was cleaning the kitchen that he noticed Jennifer hadn't eaten most of her food again. She hadn't touched breakfast earlier that morning. Max decided he would keep it to himself for now, and keep a close watch on the situation.

The Harts said their "good nights" to Max and settled in for the night. Jonathan fell asleep early, comforted by the turn of events. Jennifer read for a bit longer, then settled in next to Jonathan.

This night, sleep didn't come. She laid awake and reviewed the past few days in her mind. She remembered the highlights of the police station and clinic, but the nuances of that day escaped her. She remembered fighting against the sickness she felt on the jet. The happiness of seeing Max and Freeway was prevalent. And Jennifer remembered the images from her nightmares - the hand on her arm and Jonathan collapsing on the bed. She felt her thigh and traced the word healing on her skin. She knew her memories were important, but what if she couldn't face what may come? What if the memories didn't come? She sighed and rolled over to face Jonathan.

She looked at his handsome, chiseled features as he slept. He worked so hard for them. He protected her and made her feel so safe. She smiled in the dark, watching the serenity in his face. She could see the traces of the little boy he once was when he slept. The way his lips puckered slightly, his cheeks flushed. The man sighed, and opened his eyes to find her watching him.

"This is different," he said softly as he smiled.

"I can't sleep," she smiled back at him. His blue eyes captured her heart again and again, especially in the wee small hours of the morning.

"Do you want some help with that?" he teased.

"I really do," she murmured, sliding closer and finding his lips in the dark.

Jonathan kissed her softly. He wrapped her in his arms gently, and Jennifer placed her hand on his cheek, kissing him with increased fervor. He felt so good to her; he was all that was good in her life. In her euphoria she wrapped her fingers in his hair, and Jonathan deepened his kisses with unbridled passion. She pressed back into him hungrily, with small moans escaping from her as her yearning for him grew. She ran her free hand up and down his chest, feeling his rippled muscles under her hand and smelling his musky scent. He pulled her close, and reaching under the covers, began to slide his hand up her leg in their familiar repertoire.

As his hand moved higher up her thigh, Jennifer suddenly broke their kiss with a gasp as their room flashed white and in a simultaneous assault she saw the gloved hand around her wrist, felt herself being pulled away, and heard the voice threaten to throw Jonathan's unconscious body from The Bluff. She then saw the black silhouette of a man leaning over her saying, "You're minenow," and she held onto Jonathan for dear life. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed as he froze in place with her. She felt her breath leave her to her soul as if she had been punched in the solar plexus, and she was filled with absolute terror. Not here, not now, she thought, panicking. This is ours! Nothing else belonged with them in these most intimate of moments. But the invasion in her mind was too much.

"What is it? Jennifer, are you alright?" He held her tightly, cheek to cheek, as she began to tremble. "Tell me, what? Jennifer!" She heard his begging fade into a hollow distance.

She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe, she was falling and she started to sob. Her eyes shut tight as if to block the images she saw in her mind and she clung to Jonathan as she was wracked with fear. She barely croaked, "Don't...let...go!" before a fresh wave hit her again. The images repeated in her mind, mixing with the most stressful memories of the police station and at the medical clinic. Sobs wracked her body and she shook all over. Jonathan pulled her to him, saying over and over in her ear, "OK, I'm here...it's alright...please, darling, just breathe...I'm here."

He was bewildered. What happened? What should he do? How could he help her? The voice of Dr. Reed came back to him, "...let Mrs. Hart guide you." So he held on to her tightly, rubbing her back, and repeating the words of comfort. He felt her struggling to take normal breaths as her body tightened through her shaking. His heart wrenched for her.

After what seemed like forever, Jonathan's words and caresses overpowered the images swirling in Jennifer's head. Her cries softened and her grip on him loosened. They held each other, not moving, for a long period of time. Neither of them knew exactly how long.

"Darling?" he cautioned. "Are you alright?" The words seemed so shallow.

"Yes. No. I don't know..." Jennifer cried softly, her head on his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Do you know what started all of that?" he pressed on.

"I'm not sure," as the sobs punctuated her breath. "I think it was my leg..."

"I'm so sorry. I should have known..." he began.

She almost wailed, "It's not you..." as fresh tears began. "It could never be you!"

"But I was the one touching..."

"Yes, but you love me, you're my husband, I love you...," and she was borne on a new wave of emotions and cried as though her heart would break.

"Alright, OK, just breathe a moment. I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I was thinking of you, happy, normal, and then this...image...instantly interrupted everything...," she shuddered.

"Tell me," he said. She hesitated before she began again.

"I saw a man in silhouette, over me, on the beach; I couldn't move, he said…" her voice trailed off.

"What? What did he say, darling?"

"You're mine now," she gulped, choking on the words.

"OK, OK, it's alright," he said, tenderly brushing her hair from her face. His jaw set in the dark. He was going to kill this man.

"Oh, I feel sick...", Jennifer moaned, rolling from the bed and rushing to the bathroom. Jonathan heard her vomit again and went to her.

"Can I do anything?" he asked weakly.

"No, please, I need a minute," she groaned.

"I'll be right back," he said quietly as he left.

Jonathan went downstairs to get a drink for her. Opening the refrigerator, he removed the juice and kicked the door shut. His fury boiled under his calm exterior. He set down the pitcher and slammed his fists down on the counter just as Max peeked through the kitchen door.

"Everything okay, Mr. H?" he asked.

Jonathan composed himself, saying, "Uh, yeah, Max, Mrs. H. isn't feeling too well. I thought some juice might help." "Anything I can do?" Max asked.

"Not this time, thanks," Jonathan replied. Max nodded and went back to his room for the night.

He returned to the bedroom to find Jennifer sitting on the bed, crying softly. Her hand was on her thigh, covering the word etched on it and her other hand held the ointment she was applying to help her skin heal.

Jonathan carefully took the ointment from her and replaced it with her juice. He waited for her to drink, and after she managed a few sips, she set it down on the nightstand, thanking him with a small smile.

They climbed back under the covers and Jennifer quieted again as they both dozed off wrapped in each others' arms. Her breath caught occasionally in her sleep, which Jonathan noticed in a lucid moment. She looked like a little girl, he thought. Innocent and sweet, caring and soft in a cruel world.

They slept until daybreak, then rose and showered together. Jennifer was quiet, embarrassed somewhat by the event under the cloak of night. Jonathan was attentive, but didn't broach the subject. He would let her do that when she was ready.

Downstairs for breakfast, Max eyed the pair curiously. They seemed tired. He wished it was for a good reason. Jonathan finished his breakfast, kissed his wife and lingered a bit longer than usual before leaving, and went to his office. In his concern, he failed to see that Jennifer still wouldn't eat.

Jennifer spent the day in the garden and by the pool. She didn't want to be inside and she didn't want to go out. Max had a poker game and had left early in the day, so Jennifer was mostly alone. She read and contemplated the events of the past several days. Time passed quickly.

Jonathan's day dragged. His only refuge, albeit disappointing, was Stanley's reports that waiters witnessed a different busser at the restaurant who only worked the night the Harts were in. Management only had basic information on him, which proved to be fake. They all assumed he just didn't like the work and quit, so they considered him a side note to the evening. Their physical description was generic, and the police considered the case to be at a stand still. Jonathan allowed Stanley to view the full reports under complete confidentiality with instructions to leave no stone unturned.

He was frustrated. Every lead met a dead end, and he realized that Jennifer now neededher memory back to catch the filth responsible. He thought about the scene from the night before. He had never experienced anything quite like that, but she was remembering more details slowly. Jonathan decided to consult an old friend that provided services to Hart employees from time to time. He called Dr. Thompson, who was a psychiatric consultant for human resources in industry. The receptionist put Jonathan through to him quickly. They greeted one another, and Jonathan gave him a summary of the past week's events, beginning with their vacation and ending with last night's incident.

"Well, Jonathan, I am sorry to hear of your troubles. It does sound like Jennifer suffered a severe panic attack, or episode of a post-traumatic nature. Unfortunately, these are not uncommon. Most victims..." Jonathan winced. His wife, his love, was now a victim.

"...have these reactions in the acute phase of recovery. The key is to support her through it. It sounds like she is making healthy progress, especially if she has some recall of the events. But I must stress to you that while the recall is in itself traumatic, the content can be overwhelming. I know how strong she is, but I am happy to refer you to someone if she decides to seek professional help."

"Is there any way to help her with this recall, Doctor? Hypnosis or medication, perhaps?"

"As hard as it is, Jonathan, patience is key. It can't be rushed or suppressed. There are a variety of symptoms she may experience, from terror to euphoria, agitation to apathy, hypo- or hypersexual tendancies, even post-traumatic anorexia or bulimia. She might want to stay home or stay away. She may have insomnia or sleep all day. The drugs her body was exposed to can enhance her emotions right now, since their mechanism is to numb them. It's akin to a boomerang effect, but will balance out in time. Again, she has to work through this in the manner that is right for her. Encourage her to talk, share her feelings, and keep your patience as much as you can. I am available any time, and please contact me if I can be of further service to you."

Jonathan thanked him and then hung up the phone. He spent the rest of his day in his office, deep in thought. He looked at his notes from the last night on Cayman Brac, and he jotted down more of his thoughts. He was quiet and collected on the outside, but inside, Jonathan Hart seethed. Someone was out there and very good at what he did. But, he couldn't hide forever; that would not happen. It simply would not. And he would pay, of that Jonathan had no doubt. He would be patient. The time will come, he thought.

When he got home, Jonathan found Jennifer waiting for him in the living room. She told him that Max was out for the evening, so Jonathan suggested they dine out. Jennifer agreed and they booked reservations at L'Orangerie. They had a quiet, intimate evening, which boosted their spirits, but Jonathan noticed that Jennifer pushed most of her entree around her plate and barely drank any wine, sticking with water instead.

"Darling, aren't you hungry?" he asked. "Not very much tonight," she said. "I'm sorry." "Do you feel alright physically?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Jonathan. Why do you ask?"

"Because I just want you to keep feeling fine," he smiled.

They arrived home and decided to retire the day early. They were exhausted and needed rest. They shut the outside world away and both silently hoped for an uneventful night. Snuggled together, they both fell asleep almost immediately.

Jennifer stirred a few hours later. She dreamed of the man leaning over her saying, "you're mine", and the rest of the images of her fragmented memories rushed by in her mind's eye. She saw the silhouette and the moonlight shining behind him when he turned and the moonlight crossed his face. He leaned in, spoke to her as the fear rose and she tried to move, and...

"Ow!" Jonathan cried out in the night.

"Jennifer?"

"Please, don't do this, stop, no!" She wrestled herself away from the bedsheets.

"What happened? What is it?"

"I have to get out of here..." and she broke free of his embrace.

"Wait! What...?" Jonathan sat up in bed, fully awake. "Jennifer!" And Jennifer was gone.

Jonathan stumbled through the bedroom doors in time to see Jennifer heading for the kitchen in a blur. He raced down the stairs after her, and found her in the garden. She was bent over, hands on her knees, hyperventilating. What fresh hell is this, he wondered to himself. He approached her carefully as he spoke.

"Jennifer?" No response. Jennifer couldn't speak again, her breath was failing her and her lungs felt desperate for air they couldn't reach. The images were so real; if it wasn't for the pain in her chest, she would have thought she was still on Cayman Brac. Even Jonathan's voice sounded distorted. She knew it was him near her, but everything seemed so foreign.

"Darling?" she heard him ask. She put a hand up to him. The only thing stopping her from running away was the sensation of the lack of air rooting her in place.

"I'm here..." Jonathan said faintly and stopped his steps toward her. She dropped to her knees and tried to catch her breath. She hugged herself and looked small among the flowers.

Jonathan slowly walked up beside her, knelt with her and reached out to her haltingly. Jennifer heard him, felt him near, and his soft touch on her shoulder was magical as the air in her lungs started to balance out slowly. She tried to explain.

"I can't take this; it's maniacal. Somehow, some way, this is going to kill me..." she managed, and Jonathan gathered her in his arms as she broke down again.

"What was it this time?" he asked her softly as she struggled to take deep breaths.

"His face. I saw his face. I don't recognize him. He moved into the light and was bending down to...cut...me!" and she sobbed uncontrollably. Jonathan held her tightly, whispering in her ear. "I love you, darling. It must be terrifying for you. I'm here. You're not alone anymore. I'm here and I love you."

This onslaught of emotions was like a roller coaster, Jonathan worried. How much longer could she keep this up? A brave front by day and a barrage of veritable torture by night. It certainly must feel like a slow death. He pulled her close and stroked her hair, just waiting.

Remarkably, she began to gather herself sooner than he expected and looked up at him.

"You said 'ow'. It woke me..." she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "What happened?"

"You kicked me," he replied, grinning. "In your sleep."

"I'm so sorry..." and she buried her face in his chest. It was her safest place in the whole world.

"I'm not. Do you know what that means, darling?" as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'm not sure," she mumbled. "That you want separate beds?" He chuckled and looked down at her lovingly.

"That you are a fighter. One hell of a fighter. You fought - alone, drugged and scared - you still fought; because you never give up. Maybe you feel weak now, but you will win this. You are the strongest person I know. And you are not alone."

"Because I have you," she said simply.

"Because wehave us," he corrected, squeezing her tightly. She pulled away to look up at him. They kissed and Jonathan buried his face in her hair.

"Can you try and go back to sleep?"

Jennifer nodded and they rose together and went back into the safety of their home and bedroom. They both slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The morning daylight showed a weary couple of Harts. They were both exhausted. Peace of mind was a fleeting concept. Jennifer looked thin and pale. Jonathan looked haggard and a bit worn.

Max greeted them as they made their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Hiya, Mr. and Mrs. H..."

"Morning, Max," Jonathan said as they sat down to breakfast. Jennifer smiled weakly up at him as Max brought coffee to the table. They made small talk over breakfast and Jonathan left for work as usual. Jennifer lingered over her breakfast with Freeway in her lap. Max noticed the fluffy dog was slipped an extra treat or three from Jennifer. He remained quiet but observant. He also didn't mention the incident in the garden that he witnessed from his room the night before. He was stopping by the old haunts regularly, but had no new information for Jonathan. The gruff old man knew they were struggling and would intercede when the time was right.

Jennifer spent a most of her day going through articles she had written. The clippings were strewn about around her as she curled up on the couch. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for until she found it. Some years prior, she had done series of articles about prostitutes that were in danger. Several of the women had opened up to Jennifer about the hazards of their jobs, including attacks they had experienced. The common thread in all of their narratives was that they were able to rely on each other to cope. Many of them stated that late-night girl talk was the most helpful of all. Jennifer realized that she had Jonathan there for her no matter what her memories might reveal. He would never subject her to judgement or blame such as these women had to endure by society as a whole because of their chosen profession. She felt comforted and somber at the same time; our world can be so cruel, she thought, as she dozed off.

She slept for awhile before the man in black invaded her dreams again. She could hear him more clearly as he pulled her to the deck and away from Jonathan, who was collapsed on the bed.

"I will throw him off the cliff just like he is...move it." His gloved hand around her wrist.

She was on the beach and couldn't move. He was over her, looking down.

"You're mine now."

He turned into the moonlight and leaned in closer.

Pressure on her leg. "Not bad, Mrs. Hart."

His face inches from hers. His breath on her cheek.

"I've got a message for you from Nikki."

Jennifer jerked herself awake and tried to fight the instinct to jump up and flee. She suddenly felt ill as she remembered him so close to her, and made her way to the bathroom and retched again. The thought of a stranger violating her personal space was revolting. She gathered herself and returned to her nest on the couch.

She saw the collection of articles and her journalist's instinct kicked in. This memory is vital information, she thought, forcing herself to stay as calm as possible. Jonathan should know it.

Dialing his private line, Jennifer was surprised at how quickly he was available.

"Hello, darling," he answered. "I was just sitting here thinking of you."

"Jonathan, I remember more. He said he had a message for me from

Nikki."

"Are you alright?"

"I think so." She quickly explained the articles.

"I'll be right there," he said.

"Darling, I'm fine, really. I thought this might be useful. You don't have to rush."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright. I will finish up here and see you soon." Jonathan said. He was hopeful.

Stanley Friesen was summoned to Jonathan's office.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Hart?"

"Yes, Stanley, I want you to add to the Cayman file. Look for people named Nikki - I want a list of possibles. Look everywhere, Stanley. Past associates here at Hart, our files, Jennifer's work, even our personal information. I want to findthisperson," he said emphatically, tapping the desk with each word.

"Right away, Mr. Hart." Stanley had never seen such a steely look from Jonathan and he was intimidated.

Jonathan finished up the work he had to do and decided to leave early. He had cut his vacation short and with his worries for Jennifer he was tired. The office could wait. He thanked Deanne and left.

Once home, he found Jennifer in good spirits. They chatted about their day as Jonathan poured himself a drink. The relaxing evening passed, and the Harts went upstairs after their "good nights" to Max.

They got ready for bed, and Jonathan relaxed as he heard Jennifer puttering in the dressing room. His hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and listened. Jennifer came around the corner of his side of the bed wearing his pajama top.

"Hey, sailor," she smiled at him. She bent down and kissed him passionately.

He gazed at her, questioning.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I feel good."

"Do you want to talk?"

"No, I don't," she said. He smiled at her, watching as she sat next to him and leaned close. Gently, he took her face in his hands and pulled her to him, kissing her. He searched her eyes, and saw the sparkle he knew so well. She smiled at him and kissed him passionately as her hands nestled in his chest hair and he wrapped his arms around her.

The passion in their foreplay pitched as they held each other close and their mouths explored. Jennifer found Jonathan's bulging member straining to leave his pajama bottoms. She slid his pants down and wrapped her hand around him, squeezing and sliding up and down, until a moan escaped his lips and he pulled her to him as his passion grew. He slid his hand under her top and fondled her breasts in a grand, sweeping motion.

Jennifer stood as she kissed Jonathan and straddled his lap. She lay on top of him, one hand in his hair and one hand resuming its hold on his manhood resting between her legs, which was throbbing and ready. She raised herself over him, and moved him to her waiting entrance. She sat down on him, hard, and they both cried out from the sudden waves of pleasure. She leaned back, and Jonathan fumbled for the buttons of her pajama top. In one fluid motion, the shirt was freed from her glorious body and fell in a heap on the floor.

Jennifer fell onto his chest, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and the other turning his face into her kiss. She plowed his mouth as she began to ride him. Jonathan rolled her nipples between his fingers before breaking free and taking first one breast, then the other into his mouth and feasting on them. His hands moved down her waist to her hips and he held her as she moved on top of him. He loved when she initiated sex, and the control she took this time was intoxicating. He felt her desperation increase as she quickened her pace, and he thrust upward as they moved in harmony with one another.

Jennifer leaned back and rested her hands on Jonathan's ankles. Her motions increased to a fever pitch and she came with a loud cry as Jonathan braced her hips down on him and thrust himself upward as deeply as he could fit. She fell forward onto him, still in the waves of ecstasy, and Jonathan wrapped his arms around her. Bending his knees and sliding his feet flat onto the bed, he moved in and out of her, at first slowly, then building the speed and depth until she cried out again.

His passion taking over, Jonathan bucked furiously and came as the throngs of her orgasm pulled him into her and her muscles milked him dry. They lay together, her face in his neck, her breaths on his throat, and his arms holding her to him as they felt their heartbeats thump against each others' chests.

"Oh, wow," he breathed.

"Uh - huh," said Jennifer, as he felt her smile.

"That was amazing," he said, kissing her forehead.

"I love you," she replied.

They dozed off together, Jennifer still on top of him, and the two more relaxed than either had been for days. Jonathan awoke a short while later, and rolled Jennifer to her side of the bed. She looked at him, lazily and lovingly, and reached for him again. Jonathan moaned in response to her touch, hot and throbbing as her hand stroked him over and over again.

"You're sure?" he whispered in her ear as he moved his hand up to her waiting, erect nipples.

"Oh, yes," she replied, and took his face in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers in a fevered kiss. She needed him; needed to feel the comfort in his love.

Jonathan caressed her body as they kissed, sliding down her belly and across her hips. He slid down her thigh, and for the briefest of moments, wondered if he was going to trigger her fear. But she moaned seductively and spread her legs apart as he found her thatch of soft curls. She arched her back and bucked into his hand, encouraging him to find her pleasure center. Slowly, he caressed the button until she cried out for more. She broke from him, rolled to her stomach, and raised up on her hands and knees, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled back at him.

Jonathan positioned himself behind her and found her hot and wet as he caressed her softly. Then he spread her apart and entered her slowly as she arched her back and pushed back into him. She reached between her legs and gripped the sides of him with her middle and index fingers as he rhythmically stroked her, moving deeper and faster into her channel. She climaxed under him and he grabbed her shoulder and hip, pulling her to him as she trembled and screamed with pleasure. He pumped again as she rocked back into him and raised up on her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they moved together, and he pinched her nipples with both hands as he cupped her breasts. He muffled his moans by planting his face in her hair and the crook of her neck and listened to her breathless cries. Then he slid his hand to her center and pleasured the nub awaiting his touch. They climaxed together, each pressing into the other, with loud cries of ecstasy. As their dance slowed, they crumpled and nestled together in the bed. They fell asleep with their arms and legs, hands and fingers entwined.

The morning haze broke through their bedroom, waking them to a new day. They showered and dressed, playfully bantering and sneaking kisses with one another. They greeted Max and chatted over their breakfasts. Jonathan left for work more cheerful thanhe had been for days. But Max noticed that Jennifer pushed her food around her plate more than she ate. He decided to approach her carefully after Jonathan left.

"Mrs. H, are you feeling okay?"

"Well, yes, Max, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I noticed you haven't been eating like usual. Is there something I can do to help?"

"Oh, Max, that's sweet, but really, I'm fine."

"Okay, Mrs. H," he said, rising from the table and resuming his work. But he didn't believe her.

Jennifer decided to run some errands and get out of the house for awhile. When finished with them, she drove downtown and decided to walk along the stores and window shop. As she looked at one shop's display, she became aware of a man standing behind her to her left. The window's reflection showed that he had similar features to the man in her flashbacks. She froze in place and a bolt of fear went through her. The man shifted, and began to walk down the sidewalk away from her.

Jennifer began to walk in the opposite direction, back to her car. Her chest tightened and her breath shortened as the sounds of the city distorted in her ears. She started to shake and tried to focus on getting to her car. But as she walked, she continued to pass various men, some with that same generic look. She hurried to her car, unlocked the door, and got in quickly. She gripped the steering wheel and tried to breathe deeply. He's not here, he's in the Caymans, he's not here, he's in the Caymans, she repeated to herself. Slowly, she calmed down just enough to make herself move. She forced herself to start the car, pulled away from the curb and drove back home.

Once home, she avoided Max and ran upstairs. She made it to their bathroom and vomited again, her system unable to rid her of her fear. She gathered herself, sat in the chair in the corner of their room and tried to think. What is wrong with me?, she wondered. She knew that she had to work through this experience and that it would take time. She had rational expectations. The first was having to get over the physical ramifications; her leg was almost healed, and she didn't have to see it if she chose not to look. The drugs were out of her system and they, too, would fade into a distant memory with time. She also knew that memory loss and its recall was undoubtedly stressful on the mind - body connection. Okay. She could deal with that.

But it was the irrational and unexpected that were ripping her apart. The sudden and vivid nightmares were an invasion when she was most vulnerable; how did she expect to control that? The intrusion into the privacy of their lovemaking had almost been a breaking point; would that continue? She wasn't sure. And now, just going out in public proved to be a challenge. If she shared that with Jonathan, she would never be unescorted again, she smiled wryly to herself. She could handle the tangible; the rest was simply torturous. She suddenly realized why.

Jonathan. This interfered with Jonathan. She was crippled, however temporarily, from giving him all the love and attention to which she was accustomed. It threatened all that they had together. She began to wonder how much he could stand before it became too much. How long would she feel so...broken? What if he couldn't cope?

Somewhere deep inside a small voice told her that he loved her and nothing would tear them apart, but her anxiety was overwhelming. She wondered if the person who did this knew how extensive the effects of his actions would be, and that unto itself infuriated her. He may have known, but he certainly didn't have the fortitude to care. She was still lost in thought as Jonathan came through their bedroom door. She looked at him and smiled, but her fears made her uneasy.

"Hello, darling, how was your day?" he said, bending down to kiss her.

"Oh, it was alright," she replied.

"Just alright?"

She nodded and looked down.

"Jennifer, what is it?"

"Nothing, darling. I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

She nodded again.

"Max almost has dinner ready," he said, "Join me for a drink?"

Yes, she thought. I need a drink. She smiled and nodded again.

He took her hand and they went down to meet Max. They had drinks before dinner, and Jennifer made hers a double. She barely ate dinner, but enjoyed the wine. By the time they thought of dessert, she was very tipsy indeed.

"Darling, maybe you should slow down a little," Jonathan observed.

Jennifer just looked at him. Behind her eyes she was far away, lost in thought.

"Jonathan, I'm fine," she said.

"Now, why don't I quite believe you?" he said quietly, as he started to take her glass. "Did something happen today that upset you? Or was it last night?" he pressed.

She giggled. "Last night was incredible. In fact, let's do that again!"

He smiled and said, "As tempting as that is, I'm not going to take advantage of you in this condition."

"But darling, it's not taking advantage if I agree. Don't be so damned honorable! Why don't we go upstairs...," and was abruptly cut off by Jonathan.

"Tell me what happened today."

"Nothing. I went out for awhile, then I came home. Let me show you my new négligé."

"I'm glad you went off, darling, but I know something is troubling you, so please, tell me what is on your mind."

"Jonathan, for Heaven's sake. Let's enjoy one another...!"

"Jennifer, talk to me..."

"I don't want to talk!" she snapped. "I don't even want to think!" She shoved her chair back and rose from the table, sprinting for their bedroom. The chair clattered to the floor in protest.

Jonathan sprung to action. This wasn't like her; and she never ran away from a conversation. Her mood swings are beginning to give me whiplash, he thought, throwing his napkin to the table as he followed after her. He saw her rounding the top of the stairs as he burst through the kitchen and into the living room. As the door swung back, Max was watching them both, jaw open, from his station at the kitchen counter.

Jennifer had to get away. It was starting already, the alcohol told her. Now she was unattractive to her husband, it whispered. It was only a matter of time before their world would crumble around her. He didn't want her; he never rejected her!

The bedroom door slammed as Jonathan reached the top floor. He threw open the door and found her in the dressing area, just as she hurled her small makeup mirror across the room. It smacked into the wall and broke into several pieces. She whirled around and was stunned to find him standing there.

"Nice throw," he said with a smirk. "You realize that's seven years of bad luck?"

She sighed, slumped onto the chair and put her head into her hands. "I'm sorry..."

His anger faded, and he came up to her and knelt down. "Jennifer, just tell me what you're thinking. I don't care what it is. Just say it."

She looked at him for a moment, sighed and said quietly, "How much more of this can we really take? Us? You? At what point does the switch flip and all that we have together is torn apart? When does fighting for what we are become completely unworthy of the effort?"

"Never," he said. He took her by the arms as he stood up, pulling her to face him. "Jennifer..." Ashamed of her doubt, she couldn't look at him. "Look at me..."

But she didn't raise her eyes; he was stern with her. "Look at me!"

He shook her slightly. Slowly, she focused with flat, dull eyes on that handsome face pleading with her. He stared back at her.

"Never," he said again. "We are not a light bulb." Her eyes changed to momentary confusion. "We don't have a switch to flip," he continued. "We just are. And I will fight to my dying breath to keep us what we are. And I know you will, too. There is nothing too great to fight. Understand, darling; nothing."

"We love each other. Neither of us strayed, we didn't go looking for this, it happened to us. Yes, us.We were drugged. I couldn't be there for you, which kills me. And someone, some thing, hurt you. It's not your fault. I am going to get to the bottom of it. And you have to heal. And part of that..." she started to turn away, dropping her eyes again.

He pulled her to him and raised her eyes to him as he lifted her face by her chin with his finger. "Partofthatis allowing yourself to process the gamut of emotions. You can't run from them, so just quit trying. And deal with each one. Just don't stay there forever, okay?" He kissed her gently. "And don't worry about me, or my reaction, or that I will judge you. I'm here for you, and none of this is your fault. Whatever may come, itisnot

yourfault.It's his fault, and I am going to deal with him when I find him. Because hehurt you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. "I love you, Jennifer Hart, and I will withstand whatever comes in order to keep that privilege. I will battle the whole world - including you."

She met his eyes; this time, hers were full of gratitude and wonder. She kissed him deeply as she clung to him. "I love you." "I love you, too. Forever, without a doubt," he said.

His words hung in the air as they readied for bed.

In the dark of night, in the quiet solitude of their bed, Jennifer dreamed again. This time, the visions she remembered began as almost familiar. She saw Jonathan fall onto the bed and felt herself being pulled toward the deck. She heard him say he would throw Jonathan from The Bluff as she stumbled with him toward the beach. She felt herself collapse onto the sand as the sensation left her body. The distortion of his voice said, "You're mine now," as the silvery moonlight reflected his profile and he disappeared from her view. She felt pressure on her inner thigh, but couldn't move. He rose over her again, and said, "Not bad, Mrs. Hart."

She lay there, stuck, and time was distorted. Then he was over her again and bent forward so his face was inches from hers. He whispered in her ear, "I've got a message for you from Nikki." Still kneeling beside her, she heard his belt and zipper open as he said, "You messed with the wrong people, Mrs. Hart. I'm supposed to kill you, but I'm gonna have some fun first." She felt pressure beside her leg as he moved hers into his. Then he was on top of her and inside her, his body rocking hers. She tried to move, tried to scream, but couldn't. The tears rolled out of her eyes and wet her hair.

Frozen, in her terror she still struggled to fight with all she had as her mind screamed. Her body stilled as he finished and raised up off of her when the drugs started to lose effect. He was turned from her, on his knees and adjusting his clothes, when she got up and kicked him square between his legs from behind. She made such violent contact with him that she knocked herself down in the sand again. He grabbed his crotch with a howl, collapsing in pain as Jennifer scrambled to her feet and made her way to the cabana, where she hid in its frame behind the hammock. The man rose slowly, cursing, looking for a sign of her. He then ran stiff-legged into the darkness and disappeared. Jennifer awoke to hear herself screaming.

Jonathan had only had a few hours of sleep when Jennifer started moving in her sleep, waking him. He looked over to see her hand grip her pillow and her legs start to twitch. He sat up and switched on the small night light of the lamp. As he turned back to her, he saw her sit upright in their bed and begin to scream. He had never heard such terror in her cries. He quickly reached for her, pulling her to him. She fought his grip, her eyes blank, until he was forced to let go of her. She clambered across his side of their bed, bolted and ran toward her closet. She crouched in its floor, but continued her screams. Jonathan followed quickly and grabbed her, pulling her up to him and shaking her.

"Jennifer? Jennifer! Wake up! It's me! Come on, darling, wake up!"

She tried to fight him again, but this time Jonathan wasn't letting go. As she pulled from him and freed one arm, she spun until he was forced to restrain her from behind, hugging her to him. He could feel her entire body shudder as she kicked and fought, crying out in terror.

Jonathan begged for her to stop and wrestled with her until she faced him again. He could see that her eyes were dark and blank as she continued to struggle. In his desperation, he pushed her against the wall holding her by her arms. With the jolt from the contact with the wall she suddenly stopped her cries; her eyes opened wide, and she stared at Jonathan in horror.

"Stop! It's me! Jennifer, it's just me, I'm here, what is it? Jennifer?"

"No, no, no, oh my God! No!" and she dropped into Jonathan's arms in a dead faint.

Jonathan picked her up in his arms and carried her back to their bed. He sat against the pillows with her lying across him, reclined in his arms. He had never been so bewildered and worried at the same time. He had heard of soldiers experiencing terrors in the night from his days in the military and wondered how closely her behavior might relate.

What should he do? Wake her or let her be? Could he have been too rough and hurt her? he wondered, scanning her body where he restrained her as they struggled. Just as he thought about buzzing for Max's help, Jennifer stirred. He took her face in his hand as her eyes opened and the realization of the ordeal came back to her. He spoke to her gently.

"Jennifer? Darling? What is it? Did you have a bad dream?" She shook her head, crying again.

"Was it your memory?" She nodded and tried to speak but only cried harder, covering her face with her hands and trembling throughout her entire body.

"Jennifer, let me help you. I'm right here. What happened? Can you tell me, please? Please?" as she shook her head, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his broad chest.

"Did you remember all of it? This is new?" She nodded, pressing into him harder as she wept.

He braced himself. Somehow, he already knew. But he had to be sure, and she had to get it out in the open at last.

"Jennifer, did he rape you?"

His breath left his body as she nodded, a guttural cry of absolute agony escaping from her as she sobbed.

Time seemed to stop for a moment.

"Oh, no...oh, baby...I'm so sorry...I love you so much...it's okay, baby, I'm right here," he heard himself say over and over as the tears fell down his cheeks into her hair. He cradled her, held her like she was a baby, rocking her as they cried. He kept holding her even as she struggled to move from him in her grief, trying to make him let go.

"Stop, Jonathan. I'm not good for you..."

"You're everything good that I have. You're all I will ever want. Stay with me."

"I can't. Let me go. I can't put you through this anymore," she sobbed.

"Heis. It's not your fault. I love you. Hold onto me. I'm right here."

"I feel so wretched...please, just let me go. I have to get away..."

"No. I'm here. Don't leave me. I love you. You're not alone. Stay with me. Nothing will hurt you ever again."

"I can't take it anymore! I'm not as strong as you. I won't survive this..."

"Youwill...wewill...but not him."

Exhausted, she cried and finally relented, clinging to him as if she were drowning. He held her until she quieted and slowly drifted off cradled in his arms, clutching him and sobbing sporadically in her sleep. He wouldn't let her go. He stayed awake, watching over her and kissing her forehead as his thoughts came and went. And in the darkness of the night and her horrible revelation, it was their love for each other that remained with the light of day as the sun started to shine through the window.

Jonathan was leaning his head against the pillows with his eyes closed when Jennifer awakened slowly. He looked at her lovingly as she opened her swollen eyes and looked briefly up at him. He kissed her forehead and squeezed her to him; she curled into him in response.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I was hit by a Mack truck," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

"I'll bet," he said. "What can I do?"

They heard soft tapping on the door. Max was on the other side, waiting, as Jonathan told him to come in. Jennifer turned back into Jonathan, clinging to him and shaking her head. She didn't want to see anyone yet. She balked even as Jonathan tried to turn her face to look at him.

"No, please, don't look at me...," she whimpered, crying again.

Jonathan pulled her into him and whispered in her ear, reassuring her, as Max slowly opened the door.

"It's okay, it's just Max. You're safe, you're home. No one can hurt you. I'm here, I love you and so does he. Let us take care of you, baby."

Max had their picnic basket filled to the brim with various foods and drink. He set it down beside their bed as Jonathan looked up at him.

"How is she?" he asked, a worried expression crossing his face as he looked down on Jennifer. His room was far from theirs in the vast house, so he rarely heard sounds from upstairs. But, one look at them and Max knew something was terribly wrong.

"We'll get through this together as a family, Max," Jonathan said, kissing Jennifer's hair, her face still buried in his chest and shoulder.

Max nodded, not wholly sure what 'this' was. His heart ached for them. They were disheveled with the history of the night on their faces. Jennifer looked so small in Jonathan's strong arms.

"I have to go out today. I probably won't be back until real late," he said gruffly. Then he winked and Jonathan understood what he meant.

"I figured you could use this. Try and get her to eat something, okay, Mr. H?"

"I will, Max. Be careful and thank you," Jonathan said.

Max leaned down and kissed Jennifer on the top of her head. As he left, the last thing he heard was Jennifer's quiet sobbing as he softly closed the door.

They held each other through the morning. They stayed in their bed together all day, just taking care of each other. They made a picnic on the bed, and Jennifer tried to eat what Jonathan suggested. But she was soon sick to her stomach and Jonathan stayed with her as she retched again. They napped and talked. They cried together and talked even more. As night came, they slept in each other's arms until morning.

As the next few weeks passed, the Harts tried to get their lives back to normal. Jonathan took a few days from work just to be with Jennifer at home. Jennifer took a complete break from work, and finally let him and Max try to help take care of her. She had lost too much weight, and they tried to fix her the most appetizing food to encourage her to eat.

The first time they had a social engagement they felt obligated to attend was a party for an old friend. Normally happy to work the room and socialize, on this occasion Jennifer couldn't leave Jonathan's side. He felt the same way, and they chatted quietly in a corner together, greeting passersby and friends who stopped before them. Some may have perceived them as standoffish, but most assumed that the romantic Harts couldn't get enough of each other, and the unified front comforted them both.

The night terrors continued a few times a week, but Jennifer worked to control them. Jonathan was always there, by her side, and began to notice a pattern when they occurred. He became so proficient that he could wake to the sound of her breathing changes and speak to her softly, rubbing her back until she quieted again, with Jonathan holding her close for the rest of the night.

She cried less often, but was jumpy to unexpected noises or the sudden appearance of Jonathan or Max without warning. Freeway was her constant companion, and soothed her soul as only an animal designed for unconditional love can.

Otherwise, they all lived in the moments of their days, wherever they took them. The good times brought hope and reassurance, and slowly began to outweigh the bad times.

One night, after Jennifer had gone to bed before Jonathan, her hypervigilance reared its ugly head. Jonathan was late getting home, and without much forethought, decided to undress by their bed. Careful not to wake her, he slipped out of his jacket, shirt and tie, placing them on a nearby chair. As he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, he heard a gasp and her cry in the dark and looked up to see Jennifer bolt out of bed. She backed away until she hit the wall, which startled her awake even more. She slid to the floor and buried her face in her hands as Jonathan apologized profusely.

"I'm sorry! It's alright, darling, it's just me. Jennifer, I'm so sorry, I didn't think. Are you alright?"

Jennifer disassociated again, far away as she searched her mind for an answer. "What happened?"

Jonathan hesitated, still stunned. "I'm not sure, I was undressing to come to bed when you jumped up."

"What did you do last?" she asked, breathing heavily and struggling to calm herself.

"I dropped my slacks."

"It...it was the sound of your belt buckle and zipper," she said, more to herself than him. His eyes opened wider with the realization as she dropped her head onto her folded arms which rested on her knees.

Her senses were uncanny, Jonathan observed. Everything was affected; the flashbacks affected her sight with their images. Sounds were strong enough to rip her from her sleep. Touches had their own memory recorded on her skin. Even smells could change her mood. It must be a living hell.

He heard her crying softly as he approached her slowly. She looked up at him, raising her arms to him as if she were a child wanting to be picked up. Jonathan gently took her hands to help her up, and she clung to him as she sobbed.

"I can't stand what this is doing to us," she cried. "I mean, you can't even come to bed without me reacting so...crazy!" She buried her face in his neck.

"Not crazy, baby. Just normal for the situation," he replied. "It will get better. I love you."

"I love you, too, but I hate this! I'm so angry, Jonathan! I'm just so..." and she cried harder.

"I'm angry, too, darling, but never at you. You're doing so well with all of this...you're the strongest person I know. And it isgetting better. Besides, anger is normal. What can you do with it?"

Jennifer calmed again as he spoke and realized she was focused on the object in her line of sight just over his shoulder. She had a wicked thought and grinned to herself.

"Pillow fight?" she asked, breaking from his embrace and moving quickly.

"What?" asked Jonathan, turning in her direction.

"I said, pillow fight!" she cried as she swung the pillow into his side.

"Oh, no, now you've done it," he replied, reaching for his own pillow.

The battle that ensued thereafter left them both sweaty and full of laughter as they collapsed on the bed together, snuggling and sleeping another night in each other's arms.

There were subtle changes in their love life as well. Jennifer was guarded at first, and Jonathan took longer with their foreplay; he talked to her a lot. Still, they found that the most comfortable experiences happened when Jennifer initiated, so Jonathan carefully followed her lead. They spoke rarely about it, but secretly each wondered if the unabashed spontaneity of their lovemaking would return.

Jonathan returned to work, with short days at first, and then extending the time until he returned to a normal schedule. He met with Stanley often, but always kept Jennifer's privacy his priority. Her ordeal was hers to share if and when decided the time was right, and even finding the culprit was not at the expense of that fact.

Stanley met with Jonathan for a regular update a few weeks later.

"Mr. Hart, the Cayman police consider the case cold as of today," he began.

"That figures," came the reply from his boss.

"I can go through the files yet again, but all Nikki and Nicoles, Nichelle and a Nicolina come up clear. I even looked at male names, and a few Nicholas' and a Nico are dead ends, too."

"Okay, Stanley. Stop for now, and we'll revisit the topic next week."

"If you say so, Mr. Hart."

A few hours later, Max was announced to Jonathan. He rose from his chair as the older man entered his office.

"Is Jennifer...?" Jonathan asked with bated breath.

"She's fine, Mr. H. She's home, reading by the pool with Freeway."

"Good, Max. Then what's going on?"

"Listen Mr. H, I got some news from some of our old friends. I don't think you wanna discuss this at home right now. But it's pretty important." He took a seat by Jonathan's desk. Jonathan buzzed Deanne to hold his calls and joined Max as they shared a drink together.

"So it seems that a few of the guys were in a bar downtown this past weekend," Max began. "They're having an okay time, nothing new, when in comes this guy who starts pounding them down. Gets drunk, starts showing off a little, says he came into some money recently after an exotic trip to the Caribbean. Keeps drinking, and with the drinking comes the talking. He ends up saying he tailed some skirt and her rich old man to a little island. Says he spiked their drinks posing as a bus boy and laced the after-dinner chocolates. He was supposed to do away with her, but couldn't because she was just too damn sweet. Said he got the job from a guy whose boss has it in for her. Then he's bragging the whole time that no matter what he did, there's no extradition from the U.S. to the Caymans. Says it was perfect, he'll never get caught, and all jobs should be so easy. Really had the boys riled up. So they make nice with him, find out his name is Mitch Newstead. Says he's a regular there. I thought you should know."

Jonathan stared at Max as he spoke, inhaling every word. He called down to Stanley and gave him the man's name, and demanded all the information he could find, immediately. He looked at Max, his eyes a steely blue in his shrewd expression.

"Max, go home and take care of Jennifer for me," he said quietly. "If she asks questions, which we know she will, tell her I have to work late and I'll be home when I can."

"Whaddya gonna do, Mr. H?" He saw an old, rare expression cross Jonathan's face.

"Oh."

They said their goodbyes and Jonathan was left alone in his office. He tried to finish up the work for the day, but couldn't concentrate. He kept hearing Max's words in his mind. He pulled a little envelope from his desk drawer and pulled a trimmed down picture of the word 'MINE' etched in his wife's inner thigh. He stared at it, deep in thought. Stanley's call grabbed his attention and he jotted down the information and expressed his thanks. He tucked the picture in his coat's breast pocket, left the office quickly and drove to the address clutched in his fist.

He stayed parked outside the man's building and waited. Soon, he saw someone leave that fit the description. Then he confirmed the car the man got into was Newstead's from the information Friesen gave him. Newstead pulled out into traffic, and Jonathan tailed him to a row of warehouses. Newstead parked his car in the empty lot in front of a dark warehouse and Jonathan parked along the street. Jonathan quietly got out of his car and walked around to the side of the building.

He crouched by the office door in the corner of the opposite wall. As Newstead unlocked the door and swung it open, Jonathan grabbed its knob and quickly ducked inside the dark foyer, letting the door slam shut behind him. He watched by the dull light of the narrow hallway as Newstead walked down and tossed his keys on a desk to his right as the warehouse opened into a vast area of stacks and boxes.

Jonathan saw a crowbar next to the doorway at the end of the hallway, and picked it up as he made his way through the opening into the warehouse area. He quickly rushed Newstead, who was approaching the stacks, and swung the crowbar like a golf club, catching him in the hamstrings. Newstead crumpled to the floor with a yell, then flipped onto his butt and scooted away until his back was against the end of one of the rows of the stacks. Jonathan reached for his throat and pinned him. The man was shocked.

"You can't move now, can you? How does it feel?" he seethed.

"Wha...? Newstead croaked.

"You've got a big mouth, Mitch," Jonathan continued. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"I didn't do noth...!" and Jonathan squeezed tighter around the man's throat.

"Don't try and lie to me, you son of a bitch! I know you were at the bar.

You like to talk when you drink too much. Now you're gonna talk to me. Tell me what I need to know, and maybe I'll let you live."

The man stared for a moment, then said, "Okay, okay..." and Jonathan released his grip. Newstead carefully got to his feet, still against the end of the stack of shelves, as Jonathan paced back and forth in front of him like a caged animal ready to pounce.

"You've got the wrong person, mister," he began. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do! There's always a trail, Mitch. Your name was on a passenger list from the Caymans. Tell me why you came after us!" He lunged forward.

"Uh,…okay, okay! I was there. I was hired to follow you..."

"Who sent you?" Jonathan interrupted. "Who's Nikki?"

Mitch's eyes opened wide. "How do you know that?"

Jonathan zeroed in on his prey. "She remembered."

"What?"

"She knows. My wife. She knows everything you did. And now you're going to tell me who your boss is. Or so help me God, I will kill you right here."

Jonathan watched as the man's entire demeanor changed. His face became shrewd, his eyes dark, and his posture stiffened.

"She sure was sweet...how's her tattoo?" he sneered.

Jonathan's rage exploded to the surface with a growl. He grabbed him and began to throw punches. Newstead tried to fight back, but Jonathan was out of control. He saw his wife screaming before him. He heard her crying, felt her fighting to get away from him, and saw her running from her flashbacks. He felt her shaking and clinging to him, saw her tears on his clothes after holding her all night. He saw her in the bathroom, sick and literally trying to purge herself of his revolting act. He felt no physical pain as he delivered his blows incessantly. He wanted to cause all the pain that he felt, and pummeled the man before him until he was a heap on the ground.

"Who sent you? Who's Nikki?" he shouted over and over, between punches, gripping his collar and then throwing him back on the ground. He would get the information he needed or this thing would die in front of him.

"Nicky...Nick Rhodes." Newstead finally mumbled.

Jonathan let him go and backed up, stunned. "He's in prison," he said, his mind whirling.

"He still has an army," Newstead said. "Smaller, but still here. He networks from there."

Jonathan circled Newstead. He grabbed a tall pallet, slid it over and propped Newstead's ankles and feet on top of it. Then he dropped his full body weight across Newstead's knees, crushing them. Newstead screamed in agony. Jonathan stood and looked down on the man.

"You will never hurt another woman," he said breathlessly as he straightened his clothes. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. If I ever hear

that you so much as mention my wife's or my name, I will be back. And you will die."

And he turned away and left the warehouse.

Jonathan tried to calm himself as he drove home. He tried to wrap his mind around the information he had just gathered. Nick Rhodes was one of the meanest and most ruthless mobsters he had ever heard of, but how did he arrange a hit on Jennifer from prison? He would find out, and he vowed to get to Rhodes.

He got home and showered quickly, hiding his clothes from Jennifer. But when they sat down to dinner together, she noticed his red, swollen knuckles.

"Jonathan, what happened?" she asked him, alarmed. She went to the freezer and returned with some ice, wrapping it onto his fist. She held onto his hand, searching his eyes for answers.

Jonathan turned to her, and kissed her softly. He brushed her hair from her cheek and his fingers lingered there with his softest touch. God, how he loved this woman. He looked deep into her eyes.

"He will never again hurt you, or anyone else for that matter," he said simply.

Jennifer sighed, and pulled Jonathan to her as she kissed him deeply. Then, she returned to her chair, and stared at him, in awe of the man before her. He was so strong. Physically, he was fit and imposing, and always made her feel protected. But he was there for her emotionally as well. She reflected on the past weeks of their life together. He never faltered, not once. He never would, she realized.

She knew she was his one Achilles' heel, but had faith that he would never be too reckless and risk losing their life together. She also knew he needed to heal from this, too, the way a man needs to. She couldn't expect him to act any differently. She knew he could handle himself on the street; his childhood and early years prepared him for that. Hell, even his military service prepared him for it. He caught her gazing at him, and looked up questioningly. She smiled at him, the soft, gracious smile he loved, and they both knew the discussion was over before it had even begun.

Some time later, Max called Jonathan to their laundry room. He held his blood - splattered clothes from earlier in the day in his hands.

"You okay, Mr. H?"

"Yeah, Max, I am now," Jonathan said.

"Uh, Mr. H, I was checking your pockets, and..." Max showed him the picture of Jennifer's thigh in his hand. "You told me a long time ago that she had a mark on her. Is this it?"

"Yeah, Max," Jonathan replied, forlorn. He watched the old man's face change from confusion to concern and then to anger. Then he looked at Jonathan very seriously.

"He hurt her...in the worst way?"

Jonathan hesitated, then nodded.

"Did we get him?"

Jonathan nodded again.

"Mr. H. You're okay, right?"

And Jonathan Hart, always steadfast, always strong, shook his head and broke down. Max took him in his arms as only a father can hold his son. They had been through a lot together, but this, this was personal for both of them. Jonathan cried on his shoulder while Max talked to him softly.

"Hey...ok, Mr. H, ok. It's gonna work out, you'll see. It'll get better in no time. We'll finish this. What can I do to help?"

Jonathan moved away from him, gathering himself before he spoke.

"He said his job came from Nick Rhodes."

"The mob guy in jail?"

"Yeah, Max. I gotta find out how far this goes, and work's researchers can't take me there."

"Ok, Mr. H, I'm on it. Let me get with some old friends and you take care of her."

"She can't know anything until it's over, Max. She's had enough fear and...torment."

"Gotcha, Mr. H." They hugged again and Jonathan left the room to go to Jennifer, while Max formulated his plan.

A few days later, the Harts were enjoying the evening by the fire in the living room. They laughed and chatted, the tension gone from their voices. It was a good night. Max came into the room with a tray of desserts and wine, setting it down before them.

"Uh, Mr. H? I have the rest of the information you wanted. Got a minute?"

"Sure, Max," Jonathan said, and excused himself to the kitchen with Max.

A few minutes later, they returned, and Max sat across from them. Jennifer looked at each of them with questioning eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Max?" Jonathan invited. Max took a deep breath.

"We have friends," he began. "A lot more than even I knew of. And the guy who hurt the two of you won't be able to do that ever again. He was killed a few days ago by the guy who set this all up. Mrs. H, you remember Nick Rhodes?"

Jennifer nodded solemnly as Jonathan took her hand in his. Max continued.

"Well, that guy was right when he told Mr. H that Nick had an army. He worked all of this out from his jail cell, so it took him awhile. But, he had a guy on the take who logs flight plans for the private jets at the airport. When your flight was logged for the islands, Nick put the word out. The guy who followed you was just a button guy. And he went too far, but also not far enough where Nick was concerned. He just wanted you dead, and the guy went against Nick's honor. So while he was in the hospital recovering from his time with Mr. H, Nick had him taken out."

Jennifer snuck a look at Jonathan. He put the guy in the hospital? Whoa, she thought.

Max went on.

"But then, the guys who were protecting Nick on the inside got wind of what happened. When they found out it was you, Mr. and Mrs. H, they started organizing on their own. A lot of those guys know the Mission Street Orphanage, some even went through there, and a lot of them at one time or another benefited from your foundation. When they heard that you were the woman Nick was still after, Mrs. H, they got really,

reallymad."

Max paused for a breath before he continued. The Harts sat and reflected.

"So, the guys protecting Nick decided that it wasn't such a good idea any more to keep that allegiance. And then, more and more guys started showing up with these little red hearts on their ring fingers. They were getting them tattooed right near the punching knuckle..." and he smacked his fist into his open palm like a boxer, concentrating on his form.

"Max..." Jonathan interrupted. "The point?" Jennifer nodded in agreement.

"Oh, yeah...well, anyway, it all made Nick real nervous. So he's in the showers the other night when a couple of guys versed in the ways of the "old country" grab him. They tell him he's done with you two, and they give him a Sicilian donkey kick right there!"

"Wait, wait. A what?" Jonathan put a hand up.

Max was getting a little too excited. "Yeah, well, you know, they get you down on the ground, then prop your top teeth on a raised surface, like a curb or a shower stall, with your lower jaw hanging down. Then they kick the back of your neck..."

"Oooooooohhhhhhh!" Jonathan and Jennifer both winced, turning into each other.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. and Mrs. H. But, you know, that's how they handle this stuff. It ain't right, but it's just the way it is. So, anyway, the guards pick him up and get him to the infirmary, and he's there when some guys sneak in, and they just, uh..."

Max drew his hand across his throat before he continued. Then he shrugged.

"So, it's over. All over. Word on the street is that the whole organization is done. It won't recover because people don't want to stick up for those who do that, uh...what they call dishonorable behavior - going after women or kids, or innocent people, you know, who ain't involvedwith them. And you have your own army now, Mr. and Mrs. H. But yours is from all the people you've cared for and helped. People just don't forget that kind of thing, you know?"

Jonathan and Jennifer looked at each other and smiled.

"Well, Max, thanks for letting us know. We love you," Jonathan said.

Max finished his dessert with them, then excused himself for the night.

"Boy, he is something," Jennifer said affectionately.

"He sure is...I was so lucky he found me," Jonathan replied.

They went upstairs together and readied for bed. They were lying in bed, snuggled together, when Jennifer spoke, cutting through the silence of the darkness. "Jonathan?"

"Mmm-hmmm..."

"Do you think it's really over?"

"Yes, I do."

A few minutes passed.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Max...knows?"

"Yes. He figured it out for himself. I just confirmed his deduction." Jonathan was awake now and attentive.

"Is he alright?"

"Well, he's gone through the emotions we have, but yes."

"He is such a remarkable man..."

More silence passed between them.

"Jonathan?"

"I'm right here, darling."

"I was thinking..."

"Tell me..." as he pulled her close and nuzzled her hair.

"Well...I know you have been different with me when we make love. And I love you for it. But I also miss the way we used to be, and I want that back."

"What do you mean?"

"We used to have a sort of abandonment of the outside world when we just let go and focused on each other. I miss that. I mean...I know we've had to adjust while we both dealt with what happened. But, like you said, I don't want to live there. This happened, but if it's over like we believe it to be, then I don't want you to treat me any differently."

"When you say, 'treat me differently'..."

"I mean, always worry, even in the back of your mind, that I might get scared. I'm through with that, Jonathan. I refuse to live my life in fear. Yes, it happened, and it was awful. But it was just my body, and it will not break me. He couldn't take the part of me that matters most. That is my heart and my soul. And they belong to you. They always have, and they always will."

She turned to him and squeezed him tightly.

"You are the best part of my life. I can't thank you enough for your support and love. I think we have come through the worst of the worst, and it just brought us closer together. And, since it's over, I want all of it to be over. Don't be afraid to touch me, or have the love life we used to have..."

And Jonathan suddenly crushed his lips down on hers, taking her breath away and shattering her remaining thoughts.

"You mean like that?" he grinned through the dark.

"Oh, yes," she replied.

She waited for him to return to her, and when he didn't, she tapped him on the chest.

"Um, darling?"

"Mmm-hmmmm?"

"Were you going to finish that thought?"

"When I do, you will never see it coming." He pulled her close and they snuggled into a great night's sleep.

The next evening, Jennifer was in the dressing room dressed in a cute pink teddy that snapped at the crotch, when Jonathan suddenly rounded the corner and swooped her up in his arms. He carried her, yelping and laughing, to the bedroom and laid her down gently in the middle of their bed. Then he straddled over her on his hands and knees and stared into her deep green eyes.

"You know this teddy makes me crazy," he said before kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Does it?" she asked with a look of mock innocence.

He responded by crushing his lips to hers in the way he knew was irresistible. Jennifer moaned, and ran her fingers through his rich, dark hair.

Jonathan began to seduce his wife. He kissed her long and deep, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He heard her breath catch as he moved his kisses to her neck and throat. Then he slid the lace strap of the teddy from her shoulder and kissed a path from her throat to her shoulder and down toward her waiting breast. He felt her arch toward him as he moved closer to her nipple, so he waited, blowing lightly across its surface. Jennifer moaned softly as the goosebumps raised from the sensation and looked at him pleadingly. Only when she relaxed did he then lick a circle around her nipple before consuming the whole breast in his mouth, suckling and feasting with passion so great that Jennifer cried out with pleasure.

Jonathan smiled, looking up at her as his teeth grazed her nipple before sliding the other strap down her arm and devouring her other breast. Jennifer clutched the back of his head and he groaned in response. Then he reached for her hands with his, entwining their fingers and pinning her arms to her sides. He trailed kisses from between her breasts, down her belly and over the curve of her hips where the teddy met her skin. He continued to move down, still pinning their hands together at the sides of her waist.

Jonathan felt Jennifer shudder as he moved downward and heard her gasp. He nudged her knees apart with his face and kisses. Slowly moving up her thigh, he caught a glimpse of the remaining faint pink mark, and deliberately lingered over it, kissing the area and reclaiming it as his own. Jennifer moaned with his touch, and he repeated the attention to the other thigh. Then he turned his focus to the tantalizing snaps at the crotch of her teddy.

Jonathan raised up over his wife and smiled down on her. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him, squeezing his fingers still laced with hers. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were red and swollen, begging him for more. Her breasts lifted to him as her chest heaved with quickened breaths. He slammed his mouth on hers again, filled with unbridled passion. Then he resumed his station between her legs, sliding his chin down her body as they kept their gaze on one another. He felt her breath catch as he moved over her belly button and over the apex between her legs.

Slowly, he bit the snaps at her crotch, freeing them one by one, until the material sprung free, exposing the present inside. He pulled their hands down to the sides of her legs and tucked them under her hips. Jonathan licked the nub awaiting his touch as Jennifer cried out in anticipation, grinding under him. Then he began to kiss and devour her center, probing with his tongue and moaning at her wild abandon as she spread her legs apart, bent at the knees. She rested her legs on his back and shoulders and pulled him down into her. He heard her panted breathing and continued to pleasure her until she screamed his name and bucked into his face. He felt the tremors wrack her body as her orgasm exploded through her. Gently, he slowed his caresses as he felt her start to relax.

He finally released his grip on her hands and she grabbed his head, running her fingers through his hair as she pulled him into her kiss. Jonathan slid the teddy up her body, breaking their kiss to pull the wad of material over her head, and Jennifer tossed the teddy to the floor as she again plowed his mouth with her tongue.

Jonathan slid his hand down her smooth, tight belly before sliding up again to her breasts. He built the tension again, cupping one breast as he feasted on the other. He trapped his hot, thick member between their bodies before sliding himself down to rest between her legs. Hot and wet from her last arousal, he pushed into her and she cried out in ecstasy. He was over her, hands gripping at her sides, as she wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him. He thrust into her, over and over, deeper and harder until she gripped his back with her hands and buried her face in his chest, crying out with the orgasm rocketing through her again. Jonathan exploded with her, and Jennifer felt his spasms inside her with the warm rush of his fluids as he grunted her name. She kissed his neck as he rested his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily. She felt such overwhelming love for him that tears ran down out of her eyes and into her hair as she caught her breath.

Jonathan raised up to look at her and she found two tears on his cheeks as well; she smiled at him lovingly, taking his face in her hands and kissing his tears before plunging into his mouth again. She felt him starting to harden again inside her and tightened her pelvic muscles to milk him, hearing him groan in response. He shifted from her, breaking their kiss but not their union, and raised up on his knees, pulling her closer to him by hooking his hands under her knees. She looked at him quizzically, gasping excitedly at the sudden, unexpected motion.

Jonathan grinned down at her as he straightened one of her legs, pulled it in to rest just inside his knee and rotated her other leg across his body, twisting her spine toward the side of the straightened leg. He held the top leg in his grip, bent around his waist, and thrust into her again and again. Jennifer shrieked, then screamed as the eroticism of the experience overtook her. She and Jonathan came together again, with the bedsheets fisted in her hands, as he raised up on his knees, filling her again with his spasms and hot fluids, his head thrown back and a growl escaping from deep within. They collapsed together, shuddering and breathing heavily, kissing and caressing one another until they regained their senses. "Jonathan, that was incredible," Jennifer said weakly. "Where did you...?" Jonathan lay next to her, smiling, and chuckled. "It's in the handbook," he breathed. "You like that, huh?" "Oh, God, yes!" she exclaimed.

"I'm glad, darling. I love to make you happy."

"Jonathan, I couldn't be happier. Except, maybe if we did it that way again..."

And Jennifer squealed with laughter as Jonathan pulled her to him and they tumbled together in their bed, content, as the moonlight shone down on them from above.


End file.
